


Ten's a crowd

by Corvvids



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: 10th Class, BLU (Team Fortress 2), Canon-Typical Violence, I should probably put some important stuff here too:, May go beyond canon-typical violence, Meet the strategist, No Sex, No Smut, Original Character(s), RED (Team Fortress 2), Tags May Change, Tenth Class (Team Fortress 2), Tenth class, Warnings May Change, actually no everyone is baby, may have light angst, pyro is baby still, soldier is also still baby, strategist class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvvids/pseuds/Corvvids
Summary: Another 10th class fic! I can't get enough of this trope, so I wanted to give back to the community by doing my darndest to make the best interactions, best character development, fights to my ability. That being said, this means I appreciate ALL CRITIQUE, and will likely revise chapters a LOT as we go on this journey together.Edith had never been one to make decisions on the fly.And RED team has been together for 13 years straight, a found family of mercenaries.Nine is company.Ten's a crowd.
Relationships: BLU Team (Team Fortress 2)/Original Female Character(s), RED Team (Team Fortress 2)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 27





	1. Spy's inner monologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAY I AM S O PUMPED TO FINALLY GET THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS OUT! The first is the prologue and the second introduces us to our new friend, Edith ;)  
> Or well, the Strategist class. Read up more on her here! https://toyhou.se/8607285.edith  
> There's a lot still to make (like models, her weapon ideas, etc) but the people of reddit have given a TON of support, ideas on how to balance her, as well as weapon concepts so if you have any suggestions, i'd love to add them to the list!
> 
> My goal here is to make a 10th class that feels like they belong in the universe, and have a viable reason for being on the team. That, and subvert the trope of the "everybody loves me" merc. You've gotta EARN their respect. They won't just trust the new mercenary right away- especially when things are not quite as they seem.

"We're **What**."

The rest of the team was just as shocked as he was. It was more-so disconcerting to the RED Spy that he had somehow neglected to gather this information _himself_ , the other imbeciles on the team were less likely to have the knowledge or contacts to get that sort of intel ahead of time, but _Spy_...? He had his doubts, that's for sure. 

  
Miss Pauling gave the others a sort of fatigued expression, as if she were already tired of the questioning that was to come. Until then, she seemed to be taking refuge in the quiet the enveloped the room like a fire blanket, extinguishing their words and leaving only their gaping mouths to show it.

Engineer was the first to talk, wringing his hands together with a quiet but clearly thoughtful expression. Just behind his goggles, Spy could tell his eyebrows were knit together in the way they did when he was in deep focus, masked by the lens.

  
"...Ma'am, ah don't mean t' argue none, it ain't my business t' know what goes on behind t' scenes, but..."  
He took a pause, slowly looking around the room. Everyone's gaze was locked onto Engineer, waiting for what he was about to say. Everyone except for scout, who looked confused. Pushing through their clear discomfort, he continued.  
"...But we've bin workin' together for 13 years, ya can't jus' throw another man into th' mix n' expect somethin' good to happen. It just ain't right."

The others nodded their heads in agreement, and Medic raised his head to speak as well, drawing the attention away from Engineer. "I agree vith ze Engineer, I am all for another patient, but zis is rather out of ze blue, ja?"

  
Heaving a sigh, Miss Pauling stepped across the room to sit at the front of the table. They had all gathered in the mess hall when informed of the meeting, so perhaps it was the best move to join them. Still, Spy remained in the corner with a lit cigarette, failing to neglect his discontent. 

_pourquoi n'ai-je pas dit?_

[ Why was I not told? ]

He directed his attention back to the table. Perhaps his questions would be answered in due time. Yet secrets were a favorite of their superiors. And that would not do at all.

"Well," she began, "I'm not gonna argue with that. But you guys have had a nasty streak of losses lately- It wasn't my decision."

Heavy had to lean over and cup his huge palm over scout's mouth to prevent a yell of outrage. It was true, unbearably so, but hearing it out loud only rubbed salt into an already bleeding wound. He fought back a chuckle, but let a tiny smirk grace his expression for a wisp of a moment- then it was gone. A wounded ego would do that child wonders, at least.  
Pauling hurried to continue before any of the others could make a remark. Soldier was practically vibrating in his mud-stained boots, but even he had the common sense not to deflect her point.   
"And we really, really can't have that. It's a bloodbath, sure, but a boring one- and you know what happens when she gets bored, right guys?"

Immediately, murmurs of agreement swept across the room, the wrath of that woman was something that none of them desired to feel again, her scathing insults and destructive nature had even gotten under Spy's skin. And he considered himself a rather patient man.

Heavy was next in line to speak.  
"Da, but why not training? why new man?"

"Woman," she corrected.

Spy nearly choked on his cigarette, Scout suddenly seemed a lot more excited at the prospect of this mysterious late teammate, Heavy raised a brow, Soldier raised his helmet to see better, Engineer seemed to very subtly tense, Sniper spat his coffee, Demo gave a soft 'cheers, i'll drink to that', Pyro clearly did not understand, and Medic was too busy cleaning the spat coffee off of his labcoat for Spy to see his expression. Pauling simply continued, unfazed.

"And we have. On multiple occasions actually. Scout accidentally killed the coach the first time, you guys complained the whole way through the second time, the third time, unmentionable. You guys remember the incident. And again, I believe in you, but there's no arguing that you could do with an extra hand on deck."

Spy felt his nose wrinkle instinctively at the thought, despite it being clear as day that they could do with help. Another imbecile on the stack of deranged freaks that called themselves mercenaries. Just what they needed, non?

That was a joke, by the way.  
Sarcasm was in his nature.

  
"Dont'cha think puttin' a lassy with 9 guys-" Demo looked off to the side at pyro, "8 guys and whatever pyro is, is a bad idea?"  
Miss Pauling raised a brow, and Demo let out an embarrassed cough. "Not ye, lass, i mean a..."

  
"No, no, I know what you mean. But this is a _criminal business_ , Demo. Looks can decieve."

  
A vague thought crossed his mind as he rubbed his throat, glaring at his now soggy and ruined cigarette in disdain before chucking it directly into the trashcan, angrily wiping his palms on a handkerchief. Looks can decieve, what was being implied by that statement...?

Pondering over it, it was clear to Spy that this was no ordinary decision. Perhaps there was more going on than they initially let on...?

Lost in his own thoughts, he hardly listened to the rest of Miss Pauling's speech, instead dwelling on the offhand remark. One by one, the rest of their voices were drowned out by the tidal waves of focus, a chilling feeling that was swift to disorient him every single time- yet the elegance of focus's embrace was what made him such a brutally efficient spy. What had he noticed, what had he heard, the reel of time playing in front of him, he skimmed for anything suspicious that he had neglected to detect.

Scouring through the pages of memories, it irked him to realize nothing had been out of place. The icy blue waves erupted into a tsunami, enveloping him further in his contemplations. It took him by surprise, she was rarely this disorganized...

It dawned upon Spy that his confusion, _her_ confusion, it was not just a fault in him that had begun this train of thought- to pull the reel of footage back to the past and scour for answers that he was sure he could do without, it intrigued him. And why, why did it intrigue him so?

The answer was buried beneath a treasure trove of meaningless questions, yet one in particular glimmered beneath the others and caught his attention. A purple magazine, ah... Miss Pauling, yes, **_yes!_** The Administrator... There was clearly something going on behind the scenes, deduced from a simple string of words from the lady's lips. 

  
_No_ ,

  
His lips curled into a sneer, oblivious to the bewildered looks of his comrades cast in his direction. His contemplations were far too fascinating to abandon now.

  
_No, we do not need another teammate._

  
His smirk widened as he lit another cigarette.  
This is not a matter of such unimportance, that would be too _évident_ , he thought, exhaling a thin line of smoke. The murmurs of the room had not yet died down, and Miss Pauling, preoccupied with exchanging documents with the team, was blessed not to see his glacier blue gaze piercing through her back like icicles, before he swiftly averted his gaze.

A sense of intrigue, excitement of the chase was beginning to creep _up, up, up_ to his very core. Eternities had passed since Spy had the chance to see his true strengths in action. He _craved_ it, even. No Imbecile could flee his prying eyes, non.

  
Careful that his words would fall on deaf ears, he began to mutter.

  
" _Vous ne pouvez pas fuir, vous ne pouvez pas vous cacher, Je vous trouverai vous et vos secrets..._ "

  
Finally, in a thrilled croon, he finished his little monologue.

  
" _La chasse commence..._ "

[You can not run away, you can not hide, I will find you and your secrets...]  
...

_Looks can decieve,_

**[The chase begins.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooey, now that we have that bit of exposition out of the way, we can finally meet our mystery mercenary ;)
> 
> PLEASE, if they seem AT ALL OUT OF CHARACTER please please please i am beggign T E L L M E I want, no, i NEED to improve my writing and any sort of critiques, suggestions, tips, pointers, ANYTHING, will make me SO happy-
> 
> I want this to be a love letter to the community and the fics i've read that have made me laugh, cry, and grow attached to the characters they bring to life. If a scene looks similar to you, it may be because I felt that it was something that could work and that I loved it enough to try and expand on the idea with my own take. However, I hope to not plagiarize and that is in no way my intention. If anything seems too close, i'll change it ASAP as I have no intention of making anybody uncomfortable, alienated, or otherwise hurt.


	2. Introducing Edith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, buckle in!

Edith was never one to make decisions on the fly. Gnawing at her stomach was always a pit of worry that would only ever fade with the addition of caution to all of her actions. Refusal to think, refusal to act, it was something that the girl had an uncharacteristically strong fear of. She would vastly prefer not to feel it if it meant taking a couple extra steps to ensure her own safety in the matters she did dare to step into. And with that in mind, as far back as Edith could remember, she had let everyone else do the decision making for her.

Until that fateful night, she had her fears, her worries, her anxieties all in check. Orderly were her actions, her feelings of uncertainty hurriedly bottled away in the furthest corners of her mind, and left to gather dust for eternity.

Until that night, Edith had even bothered to consider herself a relatively, sort-of decent person. Never the best, never the worst, but at least she was willing to put up with the whole lot of bull that she was subjected to in her workplace.

What had come over her that evening, she had wondered, as Ed recalled the events of the last month. It had been such a typical workday, but something had clicked, almost... Snapped, after six whole years of pressure and mistreatment from her boss... Her horrible, terrible, awful, dirty no-good boss. Who had used her for all he saw her as. An object.

That man had it coming for him.

Tap, tap, tap. She checked the face of her watch. _4:58 PM._

It was due to arrive any moment. Unable to pay the month's rent, she was already aware she was being evicted from her tiny little apartment. The notice would slip through the door, and she would have to leave. Stomach already twisting into knots, it only reminded her once more that she was helpless. 

No home, no income, all because of one off day. Her only chance at making it somewhere down the drain. One single action, one line of code, one wave of a hand, and her life was in shambles.

She sullenly bit her lip in a pout, masking the quivering of her hands by re-tying her ponytail and re-zipping her bags. Her little apartment had always been a source of comfort for her. The dusty, vintage wallpapers and the tight corridors and comfortable couch that you could melt into, gone from a simple action she had been too dumb to prevent.

Well, prevent _herself_ from doing.

It was in the past now, but prone to being a worrywart, her mind would always settle back into the consequences of her actions. She supposed it was no use now, yet of course letting her thoughts run rampant was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. For now, entertaining them would have to make do. It was unfortunate, but necessary to keep the tears at bay- they couldn't hear her crying. 

Edith wouldn't let them.

The news had censored her name, at the very least, yet her former boss had made quite a point of contacting every single business, big or small and ensuring she would not be re-hired any time soon, anywhere. Frankly, she could hardly blame him for that, they had lost millions in technological advancements, machines, work benefits, and more. Smug was something she'd rather not describe her feelings regarding the fallout of this situation as being, yet unfortunately it was the closest she could get to understanding them. Fun times, fun times...

Her eyes fell to the floor at the gentle _'swp'_ of the paper dragging beneath the door. There it was. Her one way ticket to hell on earth. Swiping it off of the floor, she confirmed it all, and turned towards the bags of her admittedly meager belongings. _Deep breaths, it's gonna be okay_ , she thought, securing her things. Part of her felt on the verge of numb, but panic was already fluttering like a trapped dove in her chest. What would she do after this? Where could she go? Winter was on it's way, the autumn was cooling off already, and the city wasn't particularly well known for being hospitable to it's homeless residents-

_Knock knock._

-But maybe she could flee the town- It was desert in every direction for miles and miles, but if she could scrap together a few cents, she could get a cab, maybe... No, no, those were too expensive, she'd have to walk, that was out of the question but she couldn't help considering it-  
_But to where...?_

_Knock knock knock._

  
Idly shuffling about and trying once more to keep from dropping her things from the shaking of her hands, Edith took one last look around her old apartment. "Farewell, old friend," she mumbled, gingerly touching her fingers to the wall and exhaling a long, frustrated sigh. She would miss the rickety old place. Good-bye comfort, good-bye semblance of a responsible adult life... Gone with the wind.

**SLAM!**  
"WHUHUh- UM- _Um-_ um??"  
Edith spun on her heel, gracelessly tumbling forwards and managing to simultaneously drop her suitcase and trip on the wheels, sending her careening onto the dirty carpet with a muffled _'thunk'_.

Feeling the heat rising to her cheeks, Edith made a fast attempt to correct her clumsiness, brushing off her jeans and re-tucking her shirt, sitting up with her elbows and drawing herself into less of a laying position, making a useless attempt at steadying her breathing and the feeling that her chest was about to explode from the disturbance.

Upon remembering what had caused her to scramble about like a startled cat in the first place, her gaze shot back to the pair of kitten-heel shoes at the door. Then _up, up, up_ to their simple purple dress, their ebony hair neatly pulled back into a low bun. adjusting their glasses, the stranger cleared their throat, offering a hand.

Gratefully taking it, her feeling of curiosity vanished into nervous tremors. "I-I apologize ma'am, I was just getting ready to leave-", she said, swiftly grabbing her bags and strapping her backpack around her shoulder, heaving the suitcase back to a standing position. The woman gave her a quizzical look and a very subtle tilt of her head, causing Edith to inwardly squirm uncomfortably under their sharp gaze.   
_Who is this...?_ she pondered, though the question itself refused to leave her lips thanks to the awkward silence between the two. The woman clearly didn't work for the owner of the building- basing that assumption off of her puzzled expression.

After what seemed like hours- likely only a few minutes or even seconds of scanning over her, they spoke, pursed lips giving way to an energetic smile. 

"Hi! So sorry for intruding. They told me this… _was_ your address. Guessing it isn’t anymore, after _that_ fiasco blew over?"

Barely able to come up with a proper string of words, she felt herself almost babbling from being put on the spot. The switch was so abrupt that her brain and her mouth had completely disconnected. So, she forced it shut. Her reaction seemed to be humorous to the lady, who put a hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh, eyes sparkling. Without waiting for an answer, she continued.

"The fiasco in question, the shutdown of Equinox Intelligence Network's systems in it's entirety as well as short-circuiting their communications?"

There was a pause as she took a brief moment to catch her breath, raising a finger to her headset and mumbling something as she did. Unable to tell much from what she was doing, the only thing Edith managed to catch was _pyro-_ and _-maybe_.

Making a solid attempt at gathering her runaway thoughts, Edith pinned down a few and finally opened her mouth to question the lady, waving her hand back and forth to re-capture her attention. She didn't dare question why she mentioned fire.  
"Um- A...Are you a cop?"

It was a reasonable assumption to make, although it seemed ridiculous to ask out loud. From a general scan of the stranger, she had little to no identifying information within easy access. No card, badge, name tags, tattoos, almost as if she were meant to be undercover. If legal trouble were to come her way at this point, she'd be screwed.

_At least in jail I wouldn't have to pay rent._

She crossly shooed away that last thought. No need to jump to conclusions there, dummy.  
The lady let out a soft snicker, shaking her head and polishing her glasses. Thunderstruck by her eyes, Edith felt a bit more pink rise to her cheeks, and swiftly glanced away to hide it. She's gorgeous... She thought, daring to sneak another brief look at her smile.

Hastily pulled from her uncalled for pining by the lady's words, she noticed the steady tapping of their heel. Better to not keep her waiting, she seemed to be a busy bee.

"Well, pretty sure I had to dress up as one once, but no. I work for Mann Co."  
"Mann Co..?"  
"The people who want to hire you."  
" _Oh._ "

If Edith had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't that. Before the initial shock had rolled over her, the woman continued to speak.

"Doing some digging, you've been in your profession for 6 years..?"  
"Uhm, yeah- I-I don't do much ma'am," she started, but shut her mouth when she realized that they weren't done talking yet.  
"...And you have some skills that we thought could prove useful in a team setting. And," she held up a finger to stop Edith from replying once more. Her heel was tapping quicker as she resumed talking, "I know how you feel about your old boss."

"Um, with all due respect ma'am, where did you get all this from?"  
"What?"  
"The information, ma'am."  
"Oh, right. And you can call me Miss Pauling."  
"O-Okay!"

Smiling and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, 'Miss Pauling' used the movement to unclip the tiny chip she had been speaking into the whole time, swiftly showing it off before stowing it back away. 

_Oh my god, it's so tiny? How can you fit that much in such a tiny little device, what? what? what? And- and she used it to figure that all out- with a tiny little- oh my goodness-???_

Beaming at the look of shock, Miss Pauling rifled through her clipboard and started to unclip some   
paperwork, with bold printed lettering and what looked to have a clipart of a kangaroo fighting a muscular man on the front. Handing them to Edith, she distractedly readjusted her glasses and spoke quietly into the microphone once more, giving directions to some unknown listener. Finally, she breathed a sigh.

"Shoot, gotta run. But that earpiece is just scratching the surface. You could learn that, and be a brutal asset to our team, alright?"  
"I- I could..?" Edith whispered, replaying the words like a bad tape recorder backwards and forwards and giving it her all to understand why, why her, why was she picked out of so many others...?  
Miss Pauling was already hurrying towards the door. "Look through the paperwork. If you're interested, meet me at Joe's Coffee at 8PM sharp, kay?"

"O-Of course! Of course. Thank you miss."  
"No prob. See ya there!"

That aire of confidence left Edith with a distracted, faint smile. Checking her watch, she had about three hours to go, better find a cheap motel for the meantime, if she could even afford it.

The shock hadn't worn off, it was just beginning to settle even. The mystery surrounding this new job was disconcerting to say the least- yet the woman had basically sold it to her like they couldn't live without her. Doubtful, she flipped through the pages and carried her things out of the door, yet she couldn't seem to focus on a single line. Instead, all that kept replaying in her head was _'you could learn, and be a brutal asset to our team'._

Time flew faster than a hurricane wind and she was sitting on a shitty, stained and dirty bed, trying to ignore the ants that kept trying to take out pieces her knees, the little brats. Having finally read through all of it, Edith believed she had the gist-- though knowing what she was about to join hardly eased the aching itch she felt to get going and meet the lady again at the coffee shop.  
  
It seemed to be a job revolving around the Reliable Excavation Demolition team, or RED for short, and their bitter rivalry with Builders League United-- Or BLU. She was meant to oversee strategy in getting around the 'plans' that the league had, monitor cameras, and work around a variety of obstacles by using an experimental program hooked up to various parts of their bases.   
Already, her jaw had been gaping at it for so long that it hurt, it was clear whoever these people were that they had made leaps and bounds in the scripting and technology department. She was eager to learn just how it all worked, to dig into it like an excited dog unearthing it's buried treats, but instead little lines of barely comprehensible word spaghetti.

After signing the various parts of the contract, she finally dared a peek at how much the job would pay. Not much, she had imagined, if she were approached in her lowest moments. Therefore she had tried to keep herself away from the number to save her already messy motel room from a flood of miserable insults and tears- it was something of a dream job, too good to be true. 

So after finishing, she looked.

She _stared_.

She _guffawed_ **.**

_Then she realized it wasn't a joke._

  
**_$382,000 per year._**

  
There was something more to this job than met the eye, it leapt off the page and screamed at her, she nearly screamed in response. It was so painfully obvious, but holy hell- there was no way she could turn it down, not now, not in her position, and by god would it be worth it.

As soon as the rusty old clock hit the 8:00 mark, she had thrown the doors to Joe's Coffee shop open and nearly broken them, and there Pauling was, sitting at the table with an almost smug grin.

"Welcome to the team, Edith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It moved the end chapter notes of the prologue here...? Trying to fix that, huh.


	3. The Drive

The ride from the city had been relatively hushed. Miss Pauling had been focused on the road stretching in front of their little car- a rented green rust-bucket, the entire time. Enjoying the lull was nigh impossible though, with the pounding of her heart and shaking of her hands with... Adrenaline, _or was it excitement?_ It was hard to tell. Knowing herself, though, it was far more likely _fear_. Fear of it being a bad job, fear of failure, fear of meeting new strangers, fear she wouldn't understand the tasks, _terror_ , even-

Thoughts broken by a brief bump in the road, she nearly yelped as the truck veered off of the road and into the rough desert sand, yet Miss Pauling was calm as ever, smiling even.

"Alright, we're out far enough that we can discuss your new job, alright?"

"W-whuh?"

"Don't worry about it, Ede, it's just quicker this way."

Unsurprisingly, Edith felt another wave of incredibly fierce worry. Forcing an awkwardly wide smile, she mumbled an 'alright!', gripping the seat beneath her at every little rock, skip, and leap the tiny little truck took. Tumbling about like an idiot would surely be comedic, but she wanted to make a great impression on her new boss? _coworker_..? Either way, it wasn't like she could see where they were going- not that it helped at all, but the sand spraying from behind their tires caked the windows and fogged the air. Pauling did not take her eyes off of the road. Not once.

"Before we talk about anything else, do you know how to shoot a gun?"  
"um- no?"  
"Great! I'll have someone teach you."

Alarmed at Pauling's smile, Edith tightened her hold on the ripped leather seat gripped by her sheet white knuckles. Oh boy.

"Why do I need to know?"  
"Well, you read the papers, but there's more to it than just scuffles between land."  
"O..Oh. I figured as- as much, yeah."  
"Smart. You're working for a team of mercenaries."

"... _What_ ," Edith said, hoping she had misheard, "What?!"

"They don't kill civilians, they kill each other. Ever heard of respawn?"

"You mean like, in a video game?" Edith felt her voice shake and raise an octave. Oh, oh, oh no, this was bad, paperwork- she had been signed that contract to be a mercenary for a year at least-

"Well, our Engineer, he's a genius. He figured out how to make it a reality."

"Seeing your other.. T-t-technology- I... I wish I doub-ted y-ou-you-", she did doubt, a lot, but what she had been shown was far beyond her time, it clearly wasn't a radio either- If it really was true, why would they not introduce it to the world...? Then again, she did say they were hired killers, you wouldn't want your enemy to just... Reappear...

"Essentially, RED and BLU are fighting over points, intelligence, that sort of thing... Think of it as a team exercise turned into an all out war."

"S-So wait, whats.. The- the point, then?"  
"That's confidential, i'm afraid."

Exhaling a soft breath as the truck hit the smoother, drier dirt, she moved her hands to her chest and briefly retreated to her imagination. Time slowed, tik, tik, tik...

Washing away her doubts and her wild, panicked thoughts, Edith let herself sit cross-legged on top of the massive purple leaves of her mind's eye, gaze drifting across the calmly floating groups of fireflies around her little perch. Deep breath.  
 _You can do this._

Exhale.  
Deep breath,  
 _You won't have to fight, you plan._  
Exhale.  
 _She says it's okay, and I like her smile..._  
Deep breath,  
 _You'll learn a lot, maybe... You can bring all the things you learned into the public..._  
Exhale,  
_No, it was secretive for a reason..._  
Deep breath, she let the starry pools beneath her feet sweep away the worry once more. That source of comfort that wrapped around her shoulders and played with her hair, whispering sweet nothings...

_But there's a reason I'm here._

Purpose, listening to others, was that not her job? And now she had to make those decisions herself.

_If I'm not hurting people who don't want to get hurt..._

Exhale, she let her eyes flutter closed, letting the gentle hum and rumble of the car ease Edith back into her real surroundings, then glanced at her watch. 2 minutes. _I guess she was letting me think about it._

"...Alright. What do I need to do?"

The car halted directly in front of a gravel road. Far, far away in the distance was a massively tall building of concrete and wood. Is that..?

"Gotta get you your stuff before you meet the others, so I guess we can talk about it here." 

Unbuckling herself from the drivers seat, Miss Pauling swung her legs around to face Edith, causing her to jump and her heart to leap. Woah, for a woman in a dress, she was frighteningly fast.

Miss Pauling seemed not to notice, or care, rummaging through a bag beneath the glovebox and gingerly taking out a large hunk of metal and wires, flicking a few switches on the sides. Ignoring the glare from it's copper sheen, Pauling now had Edith's undivided attention, her eyes glimmering with curiosity and wonder.

"This device is your main 'weapon', though it may not look much like one."  
Edith lifted a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, giggling. As if they had read each other's minds, she and Miss Pauling quipped the exact same line, "Anything can be a weapon if you try hard enough!"

Both of them broke into excited chatter explaining the portable computer thing, Edith hanging on her every word, mouth agape. Question after question, answer after answer, it even had a screen with cool little visuals on it! A red dot anywhere there was somebody in the base, pinging every once and a while and updating their position, with fuzzy green lines for walls, she could flick the top switch to move up a floor, down a floor, and get at doors to signal them to _shut, lock, open, change_... Perhaps being flung into this chaotic new job wasn't so bad...

"You get to play god, pretty much," Miss Pauling said, unfortunately shutting the amazing little device in her hands off to preserve power, "You can move your team to better places, but you can only see the enemy BLUs if they've been wounded, so think of it as almost a game..."

"A game?"

"A game of strategy!"

**_"OH!"_ **

Her eyes lit up once more, feeling a smile bloom across her already rosy cheeks. _Now I get it! I get it!_ She thought, inwardly laughing with glee. This would be fun! This would be amazing! A bit gruesome, maybe, but she'd watched enough horror films to be used to weird stuff, right..?

Right?

Miss Pauling turned back towards the wheel, nodding. "The better you do, the more things you'll be rewarded. Upgrades to your new weapons, accessories, money, sort of an incentive."  
"I-I see, what about the first few days...? I don't know how this place works, how to use this thing well, who I'm helping..."

"You'll learn with time, and you've got plenty."

Finally, she started the car again and let the cool, dusty ac circulate through the cabin, letting out a sigh as the dripping heat from parking melted away. "Ready to meet the guys, Strategist?"  
"Y-Yeah! But um- guys? Are they all..." 

Miss Pauling drummed her fingers on the wheel impatiently, beginning to drive forwards. The poor thing was unbearably slow thanks to their desert excursion, sand still crackling between the tires.  
"All 9 are men," Edith felt her heart sink and the color drain from her face as Miss Pauling spoke, "They'll behave, don't worry about it."

Oh, she was gonna worry about it alright. Frowning, Edith glanced out of the window. The sand had cleared enough for her to see a little more of her surroundings. Uninterested in the cacti, she directed her gaze towards the massive RED base. Up close, it was almost the size of a high school, maybe even more. No, definitely more. Multiple buildings, multiple floors, looking to be a nightmare to explore, and eventually study and remember. Strangely, she felt her shoulders relax at the thought of these many buildings being for 9 people.  
So many cliff walls and ravines to climb into- nooks and crannies to cram herself behind should she need to. Much more laid beyond that, but it was only around 3am in the morning. Not quite pitch black out, but making things out in the fog of dust proved to be a challenge. Mentally jotting down a note to find hiding places later, she directed her attention back to the front of the building that they were slowing to a stop in front of.

"I have to go soon, but they'll show you around, alright..? You'll find your uniform and some training tapes in your room," Miss Pauling started, but Edith was hardly listening. Her hands had clammed up immediately at the sight of the 3 outside waiting. "...And you'll be up at 7AM tomorrow for the first fight... Edith?"  
"Um- Um- Sorry, I'm fine just-"

"Heavy? He's a bit intimidating at first, but he's a sweetheart when you get to know him. Pyro, that's the one in the mask. They like people, and... Scout."

Edith raised a brow at the pure boredom she exuded just by deadpanning his name. "He's gonna be an issue, just ignore him and he'll learn. After maybe 50 attempts."

"Yikes, that bad?"  
"Yeah."

Miss Pauling had her turn to jump when Edith, without even thinking about it, put a hand on her shoulder. "...I understand, I dunno what's between you two but- I'll see what I can do."

"I- Oh, um," She stuttered. Unable to help but smile at her guard being shattered, Edith shook her head. Briefly peering back at the young man, she noticed he was practicing flexing, and slicking his hair back a bit.

"I liked him back, too, for a while. He's a good kid, just... Doesn't know boundaries."

Realizing her hands were no longer clamming up, it dawned upon her that maybe helping out could be a temporary cure... Momentarily boosting confidence to do something for another person... _Maybe._

"Again, I'll... See if there's anything I can do."  
"You really don't have to, I've got bigger fish to fry anyway."  
"I've gotta learn about all these guys anyway, if I can make it easier for the two of us, I will."  
 _The two of us... What did I even say? She already said she won't be there long..._

Miss Pauling simply shook her head and smiled. "You should go, they must be wondering why I'm not speeding away yet."  
"O-Oh, alright. Um..."

Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath, you'll be fine.  
"Thank you. I'll see you...?"  
"You'll hear me in battle, good luck out there, trainee!"  
She flashed a smile and a thumbs up. "I'll need it."

With that, she hopped out of the truck and towards the three waiting by the door. The skinny, buck-toothed man-child, the masked... Thing, the big imposing tall masculine could-crush-your-head-in-your-fists man that was frowning directly at her-  
Waving shyly, Edith drew in an awkward breath through her teeth. She could feel their eyes, (and goggles), burning into her like bloodied little daggers.

  
"Hi, I'm... The Strategist..?"

\------

"Three weeks, that is plenty of time, Lawrence,"

A pause. The meek little rat in front of him refused to make eye contact, shrinking backwards into their seat like the coward they were.

"W-We couldn't g-g-g-get t-t-to - to her- in, in, in, i-in tt-time, time sir-"

"And why might _that_ be...?"

He let his voice purr, laying his hands flat on his desk. He could easily crush their skull between his fingers. In fact, he was considering it.

"S-She's g-gone, sir,- she, she left- not in the st-reets- streets, no, w-we scou-red, scoured- scoured the place and, and the city- she's gon-e- w-.. w-e found.. a-a clipbo-ard an..and a pen- a pen in her m-motel sir-"

"Silence."

The man let out a harsh whimper, hands fidgeting with their coat sleeves. 

"I don't need details. What was your conclusion, Lawrence..?"

Feigning ignorance, he gently leaned forwards over the table, overshadowing the pest with a soft grin. "What do you believe happened..?"

Mute for a minute or two, he could tell that the little man was choosing his next words very, very carefully... Good, he thought.

"...I believe... She was hired, sir."

"By whom..?"

"T-The w-orst c-company in.. In the world, sir, sir. Mmman co..."

Finally, his rage boiled over in the silence. That woman had some nerve. Rising to his full height, he watched Lawrence scramble backwards. "S-Sir I-I'm so so-rry sir- sir I won't do it again- please sir-"

"You may go."

"...S-sir..?"

Extending a hand, he watched them consider his next move, like a trapped animal, distrustful, but respectful. Tentatively, Lawrence took his hand, glasses sliding down his nose, eyes huge in shock.

"...Thank you sir- y-you won't re-regret this- regret this- not.. Not- not one bit- not one bit sir- sir-"

"I said you may go."

They hastily made for the door, their face of glee clear as day despite their attempts to mask it with their hand. 

_Shame._

They slumped to the floor just as their fingers wrapped around the office doorknob, dead as one, too.

"Dumbasses never learn. Paul, clean this up."

His faithful bodyguard would never let him down, at the very least. Eyes hidden by their sunglasses despite being in a dark room, they obediently walked to dispose of the body, expressionless and mute.

"That bitch ain't getting far, I'll make sure of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we can get to meeting the mercenaries. You didn't think I just spam tagged for nothing, did you? ;)


	4. BONK!™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm runnin' circles around ya!

Occasionally, Edith would lose her temper over something arguably insignificant. Glares were seldom enough to sway a particularly stubborn aggressor, and it was unbearable. Her job in general had been miserable, because her boss refused to take a hint.

Boys would always complain about those "hints" from women, their "subtle" cues, but Edith was rarely subtle. Her clues were to say no, to tell that she was disinterested, that she did not care for his advances, and yet he kept returning to her side. Content with explaining to the young men what those hints meant, those who ranted, hopeful to encourage a fresh change in the world, but her boss was simply too dense to be that sort of person. And When your words fall on deaf ears, frustration begins to boil beneath your skin.

And so, her last move was to prove her words. Not by scolding, or reminding, or repeating herself. Wasting time and resources that man had subsequently depleted to nothing. Destroying the infrastructure was a last resort measure Edith had taken to shut him up.

Cold, baby blue eyes tore through her chest and burrowed their way into her heart.   
She suppressed a shiver.

Scout was a painful reminder that she had only left the company. But memories still sat at the forefront of her mind. Small, maybe even scrawny, yet comparing the scout to _him_ left a sour taste in her mouth. Instinctively making that very comparison had drilled his appearance into her head, but for now she had to deal with it for the sake of professionalism.

So she had stepped forwards with a cheery, nervous smile, extending her hand towards the trio of coworkers.

"Hi, I'm... The Strategist..?"

Immediately her hand was snatched up by the gas-masked member. Scrambling to their feet from the... Who was it, heavy, yes, that seemed right. The Heavy's side, they gave an excited but muffled whoop from behind their mask. Heart having melted at their excitement, a beaming grin broke through her politely plain smile. "Oh- hi! Are you Pyro? The suit gives it away..!"

They made a show of nodding their head, making the gas mask almost wobble around comically. Stifling a laugh with her hand, she returned the excited handshake, which abruptly became a hug when they lifted her up in the air. Arid but cool wind rushed against her face as she was swung into their embrace, and Edith couldn't hold it back any longer. She burst out into laughter, returning the hug and matching their zeal. " _Mmf fuf mffh hoo!_ "

She took a moment to decipher their muffled message, and while she couldn't quite understand, the gist was clear. She gave one last handshake before striding back to the middle. "It's nice to meet you too, Pyro!"  
Despite their face being oddly obscured, the delight of being understood- even if vaguely, was etched into their very body language. That sort of enthusiasm, perhaps it restored her faith in humanity a bit. Forgetting the fact they were all under a contract to murder people, anyway.

The giant, imposing man nearly seemed touched, though their thick brows hid their eyes away from view unless Edith were to crane her neck upwards to look up at him. Not that she minded, but her neck and shoulders were rather sore thanks to the first mercenary's greeting.

Their hands were already outstretched to introduce each other, and Edith couldn't help but fret that he'd crush her hand upon holding it. The second Heavy opened his mouth, however, a gratingly loud voice cut through his own as their hand was torn away from it's position. 

" _Oi!_ outta the way fatty!"

Without giving time for her to even scoff, his hand replaced the place of Heavy's, and he shook it without a second thought.

Ecstatic grin twitching sideways into a grimace, Edith made an attempt to yank her hand out of his grip. It was tighter than expected, as was the strength of his arm. Deep breaths kept her from glowering entirely at the Scout, although doing so only led along his actions, much to her dismay.  
"Sup _sweets_ , name's Scout. A freakin' pleasure."

Shuddering, she felt cold lips meet her hand during his exagerrated bow. She yanked it back as soon as the opportunity came and he released her wrist, but the damage had been done. Her sense of safety and happiness had toppled back to the beginning in a rolling avalance. Heart sinking at the revelation, she wiped the back of her hand and shot the first warning Look his way. Glaring. Not so subtle. Subtle hints were for cowards.

"Hey, what's with the look, lady? Jealous?"  
"What- no-?"  
"If you like my looks, there's more where that came from."  
"What is your problem."  
"No problems here, I'm _perfect_.”  
“Debatable.”  
“Playing hard to get are we? Just wait ‘till you see these muscles, sweetheart.”

Occasionally, Edith would lose her temper over something arguably insignificant.  
For example, when she socked a man in the nose for flirting with her in a professional environment.  
Who was that again?

_Oh, right, the Scout._

The next minute or two had been a blur. Her head was already pounding with self frustration and disappointment in her own lack of self control, not to mention the crashing waves of guilt. Barely noticing the blood on her knuckles, she felt her body moving on it’s own, into a kneeling position in front of the kid slumped on the ground.

Despite his hands being cupped over his nose and his vision being bleary, he managed to shoot Edith a venomous glare. Initially, his face was pale as a vampire, but it soon flushed a deep red with both embarrassment and range. His eyes gleamed with hostility.  
Yet the loneliness In them shone through.

_He’s just a kid- a twenty year old kid, but a child, you dumbass-_   
_He can do better than this... You can do better than this..._

Savior complexes bothered Edith. Need she remind herself of the disaster that was trying to fix her boss...? Yet there was something about the guy in front of her that screamed self worth issues, not ill intent.

It dawned on Edith that the reason for that behavior may not be as clear cut as she had formerly assumed, and acting on impulse had not only taken her further from understanding it, but even reinforced it.

“...I’m sorry.”

The steely look she received from Scout told her enough about his feelings on the matter. It was fair, that was fair, her hands were shaking. She gently pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, but to her surprise, the Scout swiped it away. 

“don’t baby me,” he snarled. “I’m _fine_ , crazy lady.”  
“You’re not, you’re bleeding.”  
“Yeah, ‘cause you freakin’ punched me!”  
“Because you were hitting on me!”  
“You could have said you didn’t want me to!”

Blinking, it took a moment for the words to register. Did... Did he not even _know...?_  
She opened her mouth to explain to him what she meant, but a completely new, clear and distinctly _German_ voice cut her off. Whoever it was had briskly approached the two without a noise, glasses askew and hardly dressed in anything but a robe and slippers.

“Drama already, I see...?”  
“I uh, punched him,” she explained. “In uh, in the nose. Really hard.”  
“It does not seem broken, you are fine, _Herr Scout_.”  
“Yeah, but it hurts,” he whined.

At the word _hurt_ , the Man’s strange expression was now accompanied by a threatening smile. Edith crept backwards and away, towards the other two mercenaries while he was talking. Clad in pink robes, it was a wonder she felt afraid in the first place. But there was something about his _smile_... Hilarious to anyone from an outside perspective, but terrifyingly competent up close.

“Ah, my apologies Scout, shall I check it further in the infirmary?”

Scout immediately leapt to his feet, blood dripping through his fingers from the sudden movement. The man only let out a high pitched, amused burst of laughter.

“Oh hell nah! You can’t trick me! No way i’m gonna participate in your kooky experiments, nuh uh!”  
“Zhen I believe you are perfectly healthy.”

Scout shot the stranger a glare, before sprinting off to who knew where... Edith let out an impressed whistle at his speed. Now she was envious, her lungs hurt just from imagining trying to match that pace. Thinking about that only made her guilt worse, she dearly hoped he’d be alright.

A gentle prod on her shoulder from Pyro attracted her attention to the tall man from before, who’s hand was outstretched once more. The guilty thoughts were shoved backwards into the corners of her mind for the moment as Edith focused on the present, shaking his massive hand.

His furrowed brows and frown seemed not to be directed at anybody in particular. Whispering quietly from the shadows of her thoughts came the familiar voice of anxiety, that he was mad at her, but she ignored that too, giving him a less cheerful, but still soft smile.

Heavy’s voice was gruff, but surprisingly non-aggressive, despite his appearance. Her hand slid across the leather of his gloves as they finished the handshake.   
“I am heavy weapons guy. I carry gun, and shoot bullets.”

“Oh! Alright, well, nice to meet you heavyweaponsguy-” Her smile wavered a bit. Definitely very intimidating, not that it came to anyone’s surprise. Despite clearly not being in uniform- rather a huge white shirt, jeans and combat boots, there was a trace of gunpowder smell that seemed to waft around him without fail, no matter how long Heavy had stood outside in the wind.   
“Da, nice to meet you, tiny woman.”

Something about the russian man’s voice, it came across far different than how it would scout. It was not a teasing tone, nor one of disdain. Rather... Stating a fact. And so she laughed, she giggled and smiled, and he gave a grin in return. 

Edith had been lent a box by Mann Co. To carry her things in. It harbored her new uniform, her trinkets, her weapon and what looked to be training tapes. Looking around and noticing that the man who mentioned the infirmary- and who she speculated to be the team’s doctor -was nowhere in sight. So, she swooped down and heaved the crate into her hands, straining with the effort. There had to be something else hidden inside, it couldn’t be _that_ hefty of a box, could it..?

“I uh, haven’t had the chance to take a look around, is there anywhere I can put this..?"

Edith felt her body lift slightly when a pair of massive hands plucked the box effortlessly out of her palms, much to her surprise. She managed to squeak out a "o-oh no you don't have to d-do that, that, it'sokay-", but was promptly ignored.

"Thankyousomuch-"  
"Da. Little lady is welcome."

Tucking her hair behind her ear and adjusting her glasses, she followed Pyro and Heavy into the massive, air conditioned base. Shivering slightly at the stark difference in temperature, she observed her surroundings, mapping out what she could.

The front of the base was rather bare, save for a potted plant and a wooden bench or two. Pyro lifted the leg of one of the benches upwards, revealing it to be a contraption to open the door. Mentally noting it, she continued onwards.

A hallway stretched for a little while, branching off into a large number of offshoots, stairwells and ladders. The rattling of machinery beneath the left stairwell clued her into the location of a laundry room. To the right, there were lockers and supply rooms, and a bit forwards one lead off to a training room. Edith felt her hand instinctively pick at her clothes at the maze-like nature of the building. This was merely the first half of the very first floor... Beyond which was becoming even more convoluted as the seconds ticked past.

Finally, they pushed their way through a pair of double doors into a medium sized dining hall, if you could even call it that. A long table with benches stood against the wall, with an open doorway into a kitchen. Further into the room were a few stacked plastic chairs and a roundtable with cards. Despite being rather clean for a mess hall, Edith was reminded that the tidiness would be temporary when her foot slid on an old cigarette. Pausing to unstick her foot, she scanned over the little details.

Whilst she was absorbing her surroundings, Pyro had leapt forwards, arm outstretched whilst making a "Tadaa!" noise through the mask. She couldn't help but giggle in return, enthusiastically getting to know her new home.

"It's perfect... There's so much space- This place is huge!"

She threw her arms outwards for dramatic effect, throwing her skip into a spin and thrusting herself into the center of the room, excitedly standing on her toes. Even if it was plain, the subtle details were what made it fantastic. Rolled up baseball posters from years past, a bottle of whiskey halfhazardly placed on the ledge of the kitchen counter. People were like code, something made up of little pieces and quirks and details that you had to scour through to understand, it made her breathless to think of the possibilities of who each of those items belonged to, the cigarette, that bottle, two different or the same, who knew? 

Her laughter and excitement halted when she slammed directly into what first felt like a wall. Blinking away the haze, however, she realized it was another team member, rather well put together with a steelworker's hat, a single gloved hand, and a neat pair of overalls fitted with a toolbelt. Their eyes met, and Edith registered the situation, then finally blanched at her mistake.

"Ohmygosh- Oh, sir, sir, I am so sorry. Are you okay?"  
They let out a chuckle, lifting their goggles to reveal their eyes, crinkled slightly with amusement. 

"Enthusiastic, are we? I'm feelin' just dandy, miss."  
"Yeah- yeah! I apologize- I suppose this morning had just been a pretty wild ride, hah."  
"Ain't it? Oh! Where are my manners, ma'am. I'm the Engineer 'round these parts."

Edith immediately took a liking to the man. Not only were they similar in height, but she felt her shoulders relax in his presence. Something about the texan's accent was almost soothing to her nerves, balancing out the ecstatic energy from Pyro, the stoic nature of the Heavy, and her own mixture of laughter and worry. Swiftly shaking hands, she realized she still hadn't replied.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Engineer, I'm Strategist..!"  
"A pleasure."

 _Why Mr. Engineer_ , she questioned as she turned back to the others, _if I only called the others by their class names?_ "Right, um... Should I wait for the others or get set up now..?"  
The table nearly buckled under the weight of the box as Heavy dropped it onto the wood, nodding thoughtfully. Pyro cast him a look of silent agreement, and they both took a seat on the bench, clearly knowing exactly where to sit.

"Sniper is not want to be disturbed, will come inside. Best to wait here."

"Alright! Um," Her head tilted down at the benches, hesitating. Where could she sit..? There was an obvious order... Was it important? Or did they not care? _They probably care, most do_ , she thought, tapping her heel against the floor. Thankfully, a firm touch to her shoulder woke her from her contemplations. Seeming to have sensed her insecurity, the Engineer had gently lead her to the edge of the table farthest from the kitchen door.

"Don't worry 'bout nothin, Ma'am. It ain't a big deal.", he encouraged, and Edith blinked back up at him and smiled in thanks. Settling into her seat, she took to starting up conversation with the Engineer. After all, Pyro was already excitedly motioning at Heavy, who looked on with vague interest.

"..You guys are awful nice for mercenaries. Why's that?"  
"Well, when you've been workin' in this field for, say, thirteen years..."

"Oh, _wow_ ," she breathed, eyes widening with awe. They returned the look with a tired smile, before straightening his posture. "T' be honest with ya, I ain't too fond o' the idea of a new merc after all this time, but... Well," he paused, eyes traveling across the room, before he pulled his goggles over his eyes. Something about the rocking of his voice softened the blow of what he had said. He continued, "I'm an Engineer. That means I solve problems", he lifted a hand to tap his helmet, "And ya don't seem to be one of 'em, so..."  
"Thank you," Edith whispered, touched, "I'll... try not to be one, then."  
"Appreciate it, partner."

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Edith got to rummaging through her belongings. Indeed, there was far more than she had bargained for. Training tapes, of course, her machine, of course. To her surprise, the uniforms were absent, though her own goods were present. What had caught her eye the most though were the bundles of rusty metal, junk scraps, as well as a black box with **PRIVATE, DO NOT OPEN IN COMPANY** printed on all six sides in bold red lettering. Taking heed to the warning, she ignored the curiosity itching at her fingertips and tucked the heavy container back beneath the others.

By the time she had finished examining the crate, the sun was beginning to peek just above the horizon, shedding strange shadows and mismatched rays of light across the table. A brief glance at her watch sent her eyebrows shooting to the top of her forehead in disbelief. 5am?  
"Time flies here, don't it?"

"Ye-Yeah, Yeah, it does- goodness," She took a look around at the room. Heavy and Pyro had slipped away while she had been focused. She and Engineer were alone at the table, and an uncomfortable feeling began to settle between them. Determined not to let it influence her, Edith quickly continued. "There's just a lot I wasn't expecting to find. I'll have to unpack it all soon..."

Engineer gave a curt nod and began to push himself back onto his feet, taking a moment to stretch his limbs and shake away the stiffness, and a pang of guilt overrode Edith's senses once more. She leapt out of her seat as well. "Thank you for waiting here for me, you've been so nice, I should have noticed you were-" "It's nothin', partner. Let's jus' get this t'ya new room, right?"

 _Eerie_ , she thought, dragging the box towards the ground and securing the locks across the top. Dark lenses on the goggles prevented her from seeing his eyes again, making it difficult to discern his expression. Not daring to question it, she gratefully accepted his assistance in carrying the box towards the door. Shoulders tensed at the silence, Edith kept her face hidden from view by the crate, not daring to look back up at his face. 

That was, until the doors snapped open inches from the two's faces. Both leapt in unison and the box toppled to the ground with a harsh **_SLAM!_** , echoing as Engineer and Edith exchanged a frightened look. A lanky, weary looking man in aviators stood in the middle of the doorway, tightly holding a cup of coffee.

_"The bloody 'ell is goin' on here?!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late chapter! I ended up rewriting it after ~800 words or so, and it turned into this monolith of a 3,000+ word chapter! Tips, crits, and of course corrections are absolutely appreciated and encouraged ;w;


	5. I will not be helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Break out your translators, this ones a wild ride. I suggest using spanishdict, as it usually yields some pretty good results.

"The bloody 'ell is goin' on here?!"

PCGQAXDBNHBI!

  
Yellow aviators glared down at the two from his absurdly tall position, hat messily laid upon an untidy bed head. Clad in a half-buttoned shirt and stained vest with a loose belt and slacks, it was clear from the beginning that the scowl decorating his face was nothing out of the ordinary. Unsurprised thanks to the current time of morning, she carefully dusted herself off and softly cleared her throat with an 'ahem', to which their gaze snapped her way. 

  
"Right, right... You're tha new bloke, ain'tchya?"

  
Nodding politely in return, she offered a hand for him to shake, only for him to blatantly disregard it and move past her towards the kitchen.  
"Alright then...", she whispered, cringing at the awkwardness of him walking past. Engineer let out a hearty chuckle, giving her a reassuring pat on the arm- to which she gave an appreciative glance. "Don't worry 'bout him at all, Miss, he just ain't a talker." 

  
Nodding, she glanced back at the kitchen, where he had half-heartedly spread cheese on a burnt, dry bagel. "Is he always this... Sad?"  
"Dunno, like ah said he ain't the talker... Couldn't get 'is feelins out to me if ah tried."

  
"Aw.. That's... He must be lonely."   
Quieting her voice so that only the two of them could hear had proved futile, as he grunted in annoyance from across the room. Snapping her mouth shut, she felt a hot blush rise to her cheeks in embarrassment.   
Seeming to notice it, the Engineer heaved the box into his arms and waved her off when she reached out to help. "I'll be fine, sweet pea. Why dont'chya talk t' each other first? Ain't polite not to meet your new teammates."

  
Her embarrassed look only grew hotter when she noticed that the Engineer had winked at her. _Winked_ , at her. He knew exactly what he was doing.  
Might as well give it a shot, she nodded and waved, mumbling a "Right, thanks...", as he exited the room, leaving the two of them alone in the mess hall.  
Desperate to break the tense silence, she took a deep breath and waved, other hand placed firmly on her sleeve. "Sorry, um, I guess you like quiet, but, I'm the-" "Strategist. Sniper, now go away."  
Caught off guard by the terse, gruff reply she had received, Edith backed off long enough for him to finish eating his 'breakfast', if you could even call it that, sitting with her arms resting across the table.

  
Once he had exited the kitchen, she kept a hushed voice while addressing him- hoping to at least elicit a response exceeding 5 words.

  
"I, um, like your hat..?"

  
He grunted in response. Frowning, she adjusted her glasses and tried again. _Two times the charm?_

  
"Your glasses are nice, too."

  
Another rumble in response. _Third, third times the charm..?_ , Edith was beginning to become antsy, her foot tapping lightly against the floor. Her heart was pounding now as she struggled to come up with a last response before the man left the room. Friendship with her new coworkers was becoming a fainter and fainter hope with each one she met. Surely Edith couldn't mess up all of her first impressions, right?

  
"Sir, wait."

Shockingly, he paused with his knuckles squeezing the doorknob. _Oh, god_ , she remembered, _These are mercenaries, they kill people._ They were like her boss but ten times worse, this was a horrible idea. _Don't make him mad!_ , her thoughts sassed. _Thanks for the tips, moron,_ she replied.  
"I, um, wanted to know more about you guys. You- erm, seem like good blokes, y'know?" She managed to stammer. _That was an awful lie, girl_ , she thought as she forced a shaky, half-hearted smile. Adding onto her last sentence, she conjured up all of the confidence she could and stood up, approaching the gunman.  
"E-Even if you guys kill people, we can at least get along..? Teamwork, and, and all that-"

Her voice trailed off at the realization that the man had turned to stare directly at her. Not into her eyes, but her heart jumped to her throat either way, squeezing out the last bit of breath she had. Weapons didn't matter, he was there, in front of her, and getting closer. Immediately, she shied backwards, both hands leaping to her shoulders, as if to try and distill what little comfort they could from her soft t-shirt fabric.

"Alright, listen 'ere _sheila_ ," he growled, face far too close for comfort. "Bein 'ere is an insult to tha rest o' us. I ain't takin' that Administrator's bull about why the 'ell you're here, so watch yer bloody head."

He took a pause for dramatic effect, before flicking his hat to an angle in which the aviators glowed in the dim lighting filtering through the windows.

"Cause I'll blow it _clean off_."

He punctuated his words with a 'bang' motion from his fingers, before they came back to a rest on his knees, drawing him upwards back to his full standing height. Running down her back was a cold shiver as she took in his words and felt hot breath threateningly near. Far more appealing now was the option now of returning to Mr. Engineer, who at the very least didn't reek of coffee, sweat and grime. Yet her feet remained rooted in place, arms tightly creeping up past her sleeves, refusing to fix the glasses laying askew on her face. The Sniper's body language was rigid, shoulders fixed in position far higher than they should be. Hardly noticing her frozen stare, he flicked his heel backwards and spun back to the door, striding back to where he had first entered from. With how long his legs were built to be, it barely took even a second before he was out of view entirely.

And Edith's legs turned to jello. The second he disappeared behind the corner, her balance vanished and her head spun, sending her careening into the wall to pull herself away from the rapidly approaching floor. Her breaths quickened and caught in her throat, tearing upwards with every exhale. Details on the walls sharpened then blurred into unrecognizable shapes, her foot was sticking to something, she tore it away and ran.   
An empty room, maybe a closet- that would do- she needed a closet- _doors, doors, doors,_ so many halls, she could barely make out the labels on each entryway as she leapt from corridor to corridor, the twists and turns grew more and more agonizingly confusing, she hadn't been shown where anything was, there was no choice but to find something, the details, the whys and how's of what she was doing or where she was going had long since slipped her mind. The only tangible thought was _go, go, go_ , and Edith was more than happy to oblige. They were hired mercenaries! Why did she dare join this job?! 

She had suspected, maybe even known what she was getting herself into, and terror was at the bottom of the list of her feelings on the matter. No, not terror, _shame_. Raised by sweet, kind and loving parents, working an office job and making a decent living for herself, before taking a blind leap off of the cliff of chance, and landing directly in the middle of nowhere without a clue what she was doing- no direction, and strangers who barely tolerated her presence.

Soon, she had hit a piece of the base where the lights had yet to have been turned on. She raced forwards blindly, unsure if she could even feel her legs moving anymore. The dark felt secure, it drove her to go faster to be enveloped in it. Problem's didn't exist if you couldn't see them, right, _right?!_

_**SMACK!** _

" _Aouwgh!_ " Yelled the figure. As her eyes adjusted to the vision and she slowed to pinpoint the source of the noise in front of her, she remembered once more.

She wanted to be alone right now. No strangers allowed, she needed time to think.

Upon recalling her goal, she resumed moving without her own input, and shoved them out of the way, ignoring the mumble of outrage from behind her clouded judgement. As her breath picked up in speed again, she stumbled over a large box and felt a door handle slide into her hand. _Her_ box. _Her_ room.

Silently thanking whatever god-like entity had lead her to the right place, she yanked her things into the pitch black, narrow quarters and slammed the door, blindly feeling around for a light. The second her fingers glanced across it, she flung it upwards and searched for a closet. Right next to her. Good. She slid it open and crept into the restrictive space, then shut it.

Finally without the risk of prying eyes, she let her breathing slow into shaky puffs, wrapping her arms around her neck and curling up inside of the small, secure space. It reminded her of her old apartment, her old home, her parents, her comforts and times of need. Something about the old, slightly moldy wood smell let her finally relax and close her eyes, blinking away the sudden panic she had felt only moments earlier. 

Why on _earth_ would she agree to do this?

At this rate, Edith was biting back tears. Who knew what these people were capable of doing, who knew what would happen if she took one misstep, with the inability to calculate her own choices and decisions, taking time, in a place where each event seemed like an unexpected dice roll as to what would happen next.

If this were a roleplaying game, she was consistently rolling ones on her throws.  
Honestly, Edith was beginning to wish this were one.

Leaning backwards, she let out a long, deep sigh. Calmed down from her panic entirely, she gently bonked the back of her head onto the wooden wall of the closet, savoring the moment of peace and quiet. Leaving now was out of the question. After all, the contract had been signed already. Being trapped with these Mercenaries would be a nightmare, yet she forced herself to sit up straight and give a focused stare into the dark, settling for fake confidence to depend on throughout this journey. Her only choice now was to get to know every single detail, every facet of these men's characters. Who could she befriend and trust, who was _safe_ , who was skeptical of her, who could she _convince_.

Clearly her temper had gotten the better of her. Apologies were in order, and quickly. Making amends and starting over, then forging friendships, yes, that sounded feasible...

Slowly, Edith's posture unwound. Freaking out over some lanky, sweaty chump's threats wouldn't benefit her in the slightest. Morals clearly had no place in Mann Co, and being stuck meant her standards were about to be lowered by a mile or more.

Violence was common where she used to live. A joke to pass the time, picking on the weakest of the bunch like vultures to roadkill on a bleak summer afternoon. In a way, it was familiar, homely even. But war was far unlike a group of children causing a scrap in the empty streets. There were firearms involved, explosives even. Being tasked with preventing this had taken the load of guilt off of her shoulders, but that hadn't meant that she was prepared to witness the carnage.

Judging by the words of her superiors, there had been plenty of that lately.  
She supposed she'd have to deal, then. Edith was helpless, but that feeling lead to realization.

_I was helpless._   
_I took action._   
_That's why I'm here._   
_I am not helpless._   
_I will not be helpless._

_Nat 20._

_Shut up._

_No, you shut up!_

She stepped out of the closet and took a couple deep breaths, quietly shutting it behind her. Moping about wouldn't help. Pulling open the crate, she began to hang up the uniforms, sweep the dust, organize her belongings, and make herself useful for once. To pass the time, she swayed and gently sang a familiar song to herself in her mother's native language, serving to bolster her mood and prepare her for the inevitable interactions she would have today.

_"del amanecer al atardecer,_   
_Me encanta la forma en que tu cabello brilla en el sol,_   
_la amplia sonrisa en tu cara,_   
_que te hace ver joven..."_

Edith swung the broom to the rhythm, allowing the lyrics to fall across her tongue without much thought, letting the nature of her memory to fill in the blanks.

_"algún día cuando somos viejos,_   
_y los días se vuelven oscuros y fríos,_   
_Te retendré en mis brazos,_   
_y vamos a ver las estrellas,_   
_nunca olvides quienes somos..."_

Polishing the window, she glanced at the cloudless sky. It was a shame that it assured blistering heatwaves by the end of the chilly morning. 

_"nuestras mentes no conocen límites,_   
_cada paso es una aventura,_   
_¿por qué no podemos hacer esto para siempre?_   
_juntos somos fuertes,"_

  
The comfort of the song had wrapped her up like a blanket, Edith couldn't help but put a spring in her step to honor it, to show how thankful she was of it being there beside her when she was, in a sense, alone.

_"un día debemos ir por nuestra cuenta,_   
_cada paso es una aventura,_   
_el mundo puede parecer loco,_   
_pero puedes salvarte de la tormenta,_   
_todavía hay tiempo,_   
_caminar conmigo, no tengas miedo,_   
_siempre te estoy esperando,_   
_del amanecer al atardecer,_   
_cada paso es un paso más cerca, mi hija..."_

As the lyrics drew to a close, Edith tucked away the broom and took a gander at her work. Far more homely now, she thought. Her new safe space was finally complete, and her relief was quite literally dizzying. Thrilled by her success, she took a seat on the bed and glanced down at the black box. Clearly she was meant to open it here, and with a locked door and closed blinds, being able to do so without the risk of running into another mercenary at random made her hands jitter with joy.  
Carefully lifting the hefty container into her arms, she ran her fingers over the labels, then the locks, and cautiously unlatched them. Easing the top open, Edith felt a wave of confusion, perhaps a bit of disappointment. "Huh, why is all this considered so private...?", she mumbled, reaching to pick one of the items up. Before Edith could get a closer look, however, she leapt to her feet and swiftly shut, latched, and hid the box at the sound of a knock on her door.  
It hardly sounded like a knock, more of a _'clack clack clack'_ sound on the rigid wood. Light, almost dainty. Their knuckles must be bony, or they had thin hands. Shaking away her observations, she raced for the door. Now was her chance to make amends.  
Careful not to open it too quickly, Edith gave a polite smile at whoever had requested to see her, though it quickly turned to a frown of confusion when there was nobody there.  
 _Boys_ , her mind seethed. She had a feeling this would be a common o-

  
_"oh!"_

  
Her voice was but a squeak when a tall man in a stylish suit revealed himself out of thin, fucking, air, directly in front of her. Oddly enough, there was a trace of familiarity surrounding his physique. _Where have I.. Oh, right._ Uh oh.

  
"Oh gosh, uhm, right," her mind began to race in spanish, having just swapped between languages, only serving to scatter her thoughts even more. "You're the guy I ran into i-in, en el pasillo- in the hall right? I sincerely apologize- I was in a hurry, señor- er- sir-", she stammered.  
He wore a balaclava, but his expression was still visible through the mask. Indifference, she relaxed slightly, one hand placed on the hem of her shirt sleeve.

Much to her surprise, he replied perfectly fluently, unphased.

_"No te preocupes, lo entiendo. sus compañeros de trabajo han abrumado a usted, sí? Yo era igual, mi amigo."_

Edith only blinked, slowly registering that someone else here could understand her words. Funnily enough, her very first thought was _can't swear in Spanish anymore, shit,_ but the second was her feeling of pride. Excitedly, she replied with a smile, bouncing a bit on her toes.

_"¡Lo sé! los otros no tienen noción de espacio personal, ¡ni siquiera sé por qué me odian tanto!"_

They let out a breathy chuckle. The air smelled of cigarettes, and no wonder, the man's voice was rather scratchy at times, though it rarely seemed to show through. Empathy swept across her expression as she heard the subtle rasp in his laughter- her mother had always smoked, she understood how painful it must feel. Perhaps if they became closer friends, she could assist in negating that habit.

 _"Usted es Edith, ¿verdad? Mi trabajo es espía,"_ he replied, flicking a lighter from his pocket. It was engraved with beautiful, silvery patterns, but it was swiftly flipped back into his pocket as he lit the expensive cigarette.

 _"te ves elegante, espía, 'spy'."_ , she gently waved some of the smoke away from her face, though it certainly didn't smell as bad as the ones she had grown used to over the years. _Interesting..._

Spy bowed at the compliment. Though, Edith couldn't help but notice that brief glimmer of puzzlement that graced his expression, or the slight tic of his brow. _Was that the wrong thing to say?_ , she wondered, but kept her mouth shut on the matter. Timing was key.

Spy bowed at the compliment. Though, Edith couldn't help but notice that brief glimmer of puzzlement that graced his expression, or the slight tic of his brow. It was impossible to tell if she had been mistaken though, as the Spy had already cleared his throat and continued.

“My appreciation, _Miss_..?”

“Edith,” She replied. “Just call me Edith like before. I- I guess you’re the first person I’ve let use my.. Erm, actual name to, here. It’s kind of ironic that I-”

“Confide in a Spy, the least trustworthy of the team?”

She nodded, letting the smoke calm her nerves. Making a mental note to find more things to remind her of home, she felt another genuine, but steadier smile begin to bloom. Once again, Edith nearly laughed from the irony of it all. 

“It is quite alright, _mademoiselle Edith._ Though,” He said, straightening his tie, “I’m afraid I cannot share my own.”

“O-Oh, alright! I mean, that’s fair.” She tilted her head ever so slightly. The shift in accents was jarring, to say the least, but to the Spy, it seemed to be their natural accent. “French?”

 _“Oui,”_ he confirmed the notion, eventually putting out the cigarette. “Ah, and this may seem a hasty change in subject, _mon ami,_ but I have a few inquiries about you, if you please.”

“Um, is this, your whole spy thing?”

“You could say so, yes.”

“Then… Sure?”

“Excellent. Have you a second chair?”

“Think so! Hold on,” Edith swiftly hurried back into her room, pulling a stool from the closet towards her desk. “I can just sit on the bed, though. I don’t mind.”

The way that Spy regarded the rickety old thing with a curled nose and a pulled back lip told enough, so she quickly shoved it back and replaced it with her desk chair, plopping down onto the scratchy but surprisingly decent sheets of her new bed. For a military base, they sure did allow luxuries none would ever truly have. Not that Edith minded, it was certainly a mild step up from her old apartment, she knew that for sure. A flicker of anxiety crossed her mind as the door shut and locked, and Spy made his way to the middle of the room. He was much taller than her up close, ice cold stare reminiscent of Scout's, _dangerous if provoked_.   
She swallowed and waived away her uneasiness, folding her hands across her lap as the Spy took a seat across from her with a pen and clipboard- not too much unlike Miss Pauling's.

"As you already know, you were an unexpected impulse hire by Mann Co industries. This is true."

"Yes," she replied, keeping a straight face. Was this an interview? Ideas of this being an important secret test floating around her brain were disquieting to say the least. Hopefully her replies would have no repercussions, but Edith had rather quickly learned that her new home was... Unpredictable, what would happen next was up to the gods that they were all at the mercy of, unfortunately.

"Certainly. Now, for this question, I would like you to answer truthfully. I promise you that your next words will not leave this room," he began, leaning forwards ever so slightly, and in turn Edith shied backwards to keep the distance. What was so important for her to answer that it required forewarning..? Unease began to bubble back up to the surface, along with with a sense of foreboding at the grave expression on his face.   
He took a deep breath, straightening his tie and sitting up straight.   
"What are-"

**[ ATTENTION, A BLU SPY IS IN THE BASE, PROTECT THE BRIEFCASE! ]**

Alarms began to blare and the lights flickered red as the two vaulted out of their seats. Spy had hissed a faint _"merde!"_ , as he passed, while Edith was left dumbfounded and yelling "what the _**FUCK?"**_ So many questions were swimming around her head. What was Spy going to ask her? Why was there a briefcase? Why did they need to protect it? How did a BLU spy get into the base? Did the BLU's have the same classes? If so, who were they?

  
She joined the others as they leapt through the halls, and she overheard the revving of a minigun, as well as shrieks and manic laughter from nearby. Blinking through the haze of discomfort and renewed panic, she forced herself to focus. Spy had disappeared as abruptly as he had appeared before her eyes only a few minutes earlier, and Engineer was jogging behind scout, who had a look of annoyance plastered across his face, likely for being disturbed from his brooding.  
They were all moving towards one place, surrounded by massive servers and machinery and down the stairs. Clearly this was not something to be taken lightly, as even engineer bore a scowl and a focused leer.

  
That leer was the last thing Edith saw before she screamed bloody murder.

  
Engineer had frozen, tensed up, and collapsed to the floor as a bloodstained knife bore through his back, a man who looked practically identical to her new friend, save for the color of his clothing, revealing himself with a briefcase strapped to his back.

  
Color, color, it had drained from her face as she watched what had happened. Scout had left them, he hadn't seen a thing, She was the only witness to the atrocity. Her newest coworker was gone, it barely had the chance to register as the lanky man turned on his heel to see Edith, exchanging a look of mild shock and confusion. The brief expression changed to focus as he whipped out a revolver from the holster on his waist, loading and switching off the safety in one swift movement, then pointing it at her.

_He Killed Mr. Engineer._

Her ears were ringing, had she even been shot? Edith couldn't recall. Muffled were the noises, and steps, blurry were her surroundings, all she felt was pressure in her temples, blood pounding in her veins, someone was crumpled beneath her, or was she the one on the ground? Consciousness slipping away, _must stay awake_ , _protect the briefcase_ , how much time had passed? What was going on? 

_What are you doing here?_

_I already told you, I don't know!_

_You're a traitor, he spat, you're a liar and a fool and you know it as well as I do._

_Well, I don't. I don't know what to tell you. I don't. I don't._

_Skip, skip,_   
_Turn._

_Hey there, Mr. **BLU** , w **e** 're **s** o **p** leased to be with you._

_Look around see what **y** ou do,_

_Everybody smiles at you,_   
_..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor sniper is just cranky,, dude literally got told "lol you're ass at your job we're bringing in a civilian to help" and he is NOT happy.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hardly remember any spanish so I was mostly using like,, 3 different translators at the same time and swapping to make sure I got the best answers. Try not to use standard google translate unless you're willing to constantly switch languages to make sure it's actually the correct wording.
> 
> KSNABKOVSJRYAQQJLRNXXJRCIQABQTBI!
> 
> Good luck!


	6. INTRUDER ALERT!

_**"UP AND AT 'EM, MAGGOTS!"** _

Soldier had spent the last two hours bellowing at his troops, commanding them across the desert to guard the perimeter. Those lazy, brainless HIPPIES had to be moved by force, but they were the only hope these patriotic wasteland warriors could rely on for TRUE DEFENSE! Provided by their FIERCE, LOYAL commander.

Throat sufficiently warmed up for optimal shrieking tactics, Soldier was marching into the halls of their military base to rouse his closest teammates. Monday was a day away, and his veins seethed with fury when he noticed two of the most PUNCTUAL, ON TIME members were COMPLETELY MISSING FROM THEIR ROOMS! Sleeping elsewhere? Hiding from responsibility? _Oough,_ those maggots had it comin' for 'em...

Taking no spare moment to hesitate, Soldier was back to prowling the passages, teeth gritted. Did his compatriots care so little for their drill sergeant, that they would dare make attempts at getting out of their duties?!

Doe took a knuckle to the first door, barely caring to knock properly before he kicked it inwards. Scout, he was bound to be...

Sitting on top of his bed, nursing a bruised nose and in full work uniform...?

" **UNBELIEVABLE.** ”

“Yeah, man, really is. You just kicked down my door for the third time this week.”

“IT IS A SUNDAY!”

“Yeah, you kicked it down at midnight... And two am, dude...”

“I DID? HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH UN-PATRIOTIC THINGS AS DISTURBING THE REST OF MY COMPATRIOTS, YOU WORM!”

“Mmhm,” he said, giving an uncaring look at the mirror across from him, settled on top of the cabinet filled with his old high-school trophies. Soldier raised the tip of his helmet with his thumb, sending a disbelieving squint towards the scrawny boy. He could practically hear his blabbering mouth already, and raised a hand to cover an ear, yet words never graced them. 

“What?”

“SHUT! SHSHush.” He tramped towards Scout, hand slamming over his mouth, prompting a muffled yelp of indignance, likely from the weakling’s nosebleed. _“SHHH.”_

Yet again, the maggot seemed to take his words into consideration. Orders, from his commander, FOLLOWED. This was OUT OF CHARACTER, and Soldier furrowed a brow. _IS THIS A GOOD THING?_  
Dismissing that ridiculous notion, he let go and began to pace, refusing to let this oddity strike him with fear. That would be UN-AMERICAN! Besides, maybe this scout was a SPY! This jabber mouth never shut up, it was suspicious...

  
“So uh, you gonna leave my room or what, pally.”

  
“UH?”

  
“Normally you’re like, checking the others or something. Waking ‘em up when we’re gettin’ perfectly good sleep?”

  
“YES! I AM DOING THAT RIGHT NOW!”

  
“..You’re pacing. In the middle of my room.”

  
Soldier peeked down at his boots, moving like ghosts across the wood floor. GHOSTS! Ghosts? No. That couldn’t be right... Hrm... Merasmus? He hadn’t thrown a fridge of sour cream at him lately, no reason for that numbnuts to be ticked off...  
A hand being waved in front of his helmet abruptly awakened the man from his thoughts. He was met with a scowling face. Why? Soldier questioned, tilting his head far further than perhaps it ought to go, I didn’t insult him!, was this a show of disrespect? He took a breath to holler at him for explanation, but scout let out a chuff of laughter, placing a hand on his forehead.  
Not in the pockets, that was unusual.

  
“Look buddy, or ‘sir’, whatever. Whatever kinda work you’re doing, mind bringing it outside? I wanna sort my baseball cards.”, he shrugged, waltzing over to his collection piled up in the corner of his room. Soldier had learned the hard way that he was not to burn those trinkets, supposedly they were truly American...

  
“WHY?”

  
“Why what?”

  
"YOU ARE ACTING BEARABLE, WHY?"

  
"Jeez louise..." He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sort of annoyed expression. But it was rather brief, quickly replaced by a serious frown instead.

"If I tell you, will you leave?"

"SIR YES SIR!" He bellowed, heel clicking against the floor as he drew into a tall salute.

"Alright. You know that new hire?"

"WHO?"

"We got a new hire. Miss Pauling told us.. Yesterday?"

"I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION."

Solder broke out into a huge, toothy grin. Of course he remembered, but seeing that little bit of annoyance spark across the child's face let him know that this was, in fact, his crewmate. Soldier could only anticipate a punctual new team member with the light of war in their eyes, vowing to restore the American dream... Ah, right, the child was blabbing on again. YES! Good.

"...Y'see, she's a **civilian** ," Soldier's heart stopped as he froze in place, attention piercing through Scout like a bullet, but he kept talking, the attentiveness going completely unnoticed. "I tried talkin' to her, and she punched me! in the nose!" He pointed angrily at the red crust around his nostrils. "And see, I'm used to that from you guys. But from a new hire? There's somethin' off about it, Solly."

"Hrm..." His eyebrows furrowed slightly. A _civilian_... Now, the bolt of initial fear had ebbed away-, knowing that the conversation would not loop around to his own... Questionable past, but it had been replaced by a weary trace of suspicion. Sure, he could understand punching a loud-mouthed kid, but first day on the job... That didn't seem normal of an unskilled, inexperienced maggot...  
"Right then, you'll leave?" Scout cut into his thoughts, half-wrapped hand waving in front of Soldier's eyes and drawing him back into reality.  
"RIGHT, YES! I MUST WAKE THE OTHERS!"

If the Scout had responded, Soldier hadn't heard it, already jogging back down the hall, mind stewing. _Civilian_... Words could not describe how much that word stung to hear, even if clearly not directed at him. The military had certainly played some sort of cruel joke on him when he...

He arrived at Demo's door with a blank stare, unsure how much time had passed, and why he hadn't set his arm down to knock yet. His hand slowly thunked against the shoddy wood, slower than time itself, and like clockwork, a familiar and comfortable voice graced his hearing.

"Aye, c'mon in, mate. I'm awake."

"THANK THE HEAVENS. I AM SO PROUD OF THIS COUNTRY."

An irresistibly contagious chuckle greeted him as he entered the wide-windowed room, muddied boots matted in a stark contrast to the polished floors and bright bottles of scrumpy lining the shelves. "I HEAR OUR NEW ARRIVAL CAME!"  
"Argh, no wonder ah din't hear 'em outside when ah checked... Missed tha whole thing." Demo rubbed an eye, plucking one of the shorter unlabeled bottles from the rack and popping the lid, taking a long sip. "Really? DAMN, this is UNACCEPTABLE! I am a DISGRACE! I eh.. May have been organizing the troops. I thought we'd be doing this at SEVEN AM IN THE MORNING, SHARP!" 

"In't your fault, lad," a comforting smile graced their lips, erasing any sort of guilt that riddled his bones from this morning's slip-up. Two bomb-chucking lunatics on the battlefield, together they were unstoppable... Great man he was, would definitely make Abraham Lincoln proud. "Nobody knew when ey'd show up," He said, patting the free cushion on his couch, and continued as soldier excitedly leapt to his side, easily dwarfed in size by the armored cyclops, "An' if nothing else, think thah poor lass was spooked outta her mind... Heard 'er makin' a racket down the hall, earlier."

"Heheh, some good training'll put that woman in their place!" He slammed a fist down into his hand, nodding to himself and basking in the Demoman's silent agreement. No ifs, buts, or whys about it, that's what he loved about that man, in a purely professional manner, of course! 

A firm pat on the back woke him from his internal conversation, and he thumbed his helmet up to pay attention to Demo, expression clear even with only one eye left- a remarkable battle scar.   
"Jus' don't scare 'em away, maybe we can both head off t' do it... Pretty sure we're tha only ones she han't met."

"AFFIRMATIVE! Two coaches! This will be the best training session EVER!"  
Another breathy laugh, and this time it tugged at Soldier's lungs and practically begged him to laugh along. Choosing to comply, they were now both wheezing on the couch- hell, Demo had rolled off onto the floor. "Aye, I call dibs on teachin' the lass to sticky jump!"

"HEY!" He protested, letting out another whoop of laughter. "NO DIBS! I FORBID IT!"

"Sir yes sir, mate, reckon the lass will let us rocket-sticky at thah same time?" 

Soldier nearly choked, cackling. "Oh GOD, when was the last time we attempted that maneuver?"

"Been years. Din'tcha shatter ya helmet last time?"

"Still in my room!" He confirmed, flashing a thumbs up. The way his eye crinkled when he smiled... Thoughts away, MAGGOT! "YOU SHATTERED YOUR LEGS, PRIVATE!"  
Another snort. "Bet if sniper saw it, he'da said 'imma turn your legs into a foine red mist, mate..."

Soldier was breathless from their quips, having taken his own position on the wood floor as well. Cool wood against his back, a stark divergence from the grainy wasteland sands. Noticing it was of least priority to Soldier, however, more-so focused on regaining his lost air.

The two men exchanged jokes for a while longer, eventually having lost track of time in it's entirety. Not that Soldier particularly minded, being punctual was less important than PRIVATE BUSINESS and WAR PLANS FOR SHATTERING LEGS, and he bet mister Washington would agree. They only fell silent when alarms sounded further off in the base, slowly creeping towards them until their own had started blaring.  
Eyes connected, brainwaves synced, wordless exchanges flooded between them in an instant, feet leapt without input. Before the two's mouths could even move, Soldier and Demoman were racing through the hallway, weapons slung over their shoulders.

"Shite, spy?"

"I AM GOING TO DISEMBOWEL SOMEBODY!"

"Tha spy?"

"THE SPY!"

"Let's go find 'em, then!"

"AYE AYE."

"..Hah. Eye."

"NO TIME FOR JOKES, LETS _**GO GO GO**_!"

Something stirred beneath the desert sand. Radio crackling to life, He was completely still against the wind rushing across his shoulders, cuffs chafing roughly across his forearm as his fingers grazed the trigger, lips firmly pressed into a frown.  
Minutes ticked by and the static buzz emanating from the earpiece remained unbroken, nor did his aim. Finally, as his weathered back began to sore and boredom settled into his bones, Charles wearily shifted the weight of the rifle into his left hand, pressing a thumb into the headset button. Relentless, the wind pushed onwards, yet he kept his voice a mumble, if only for his partner's sake.

  
"Mate, need backup..?"

  
Unresponsive.  
Charles prodded at the low rumble of despondence in the back of his mind, critically glaring it down as if it were a physical object crossing his scope. Reproach towards being awoken at an hour such as this was pointless, only the here and now. Here and now, he figured that Spy had been caught...   
Alarms would only sound if Spy had at least succeeded, Charles reckoned that perhaps that loony medic had discovered them, or perhaps the red Spy outsmarted the mirrored clone once more.

"Bah...", muttered Charles, crouching back beneath the dunes and eyeing the large sightlines belonging to him alone at the hour. An old, weathered professional like him knew that there would be warning if Spy had managed something so foolish. Swift to jump to conclusions, perhaps, yet content to settle back into position before those conclusions could sweep him off of his feet. A man of reason, yes. A smirk twisted across the wrinkled man's face.

 _Foolish!_ , his mind cried, for he pitied those ruby stained rascals... _To be taken by surprise_ , it shouted, _It must be reason they lack_.   
Nodding towards nobody in particular, a freezing breeze swept through his hair, sending sparks and shivers throughout his figure. _Yes, and maybe I am a fool to assume_ , he tightened his heavy coat and hiked his trousers up a pinch and finally, taking aim, _that they do not pity us as well_.

The alarms began to blare a handful of seconds later, an ear-piercing wail all-too familiar to the weathered Sniper. Throughout their years together, the partners in crime had been perfecting their methods of nabbing the intelligence during their early-morning excursions.  
Any minute now, Spy would be sauntering outside with the suitcase folded beneath his arm, and they'd be back to the base, a snorting Frenchman and a wheezing sharpshooter mocking the poor REDs for letting them repeatedly escape with those precious papers.  
So he waited.  
He shot down their Pyro, and kept waiting.  
Anticipation turned to frustration as he headshot the red spy. The itch to move crawled beneath his skin like ants marching towards a particularly rotten picnic, but he forced his knees to dig into the sand and steadied his breath. _Bugger!_ , he silently hissed at the pain of built-up tension. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head and took aim at their medic. He was not taking a visit to the infirmary this time around, and he still had a job to perform.

_CRAK!_

"Bloody 'ell..." There went his hiding spot. Choosing the searing pain of the bullet to his legs giving in, he unscoped just in time to duck beneath a rock or two, shielding him from the red Sniper's sight. Of course, he rolled his eyes in a wince, _had t' be my bloody dominant shoulder- that arse 'id it on purpose..._  
Despite the skirmish taking up a significant amount of time, his earpiece remained remarkably silent save for it's regularly harsh hissing. Spy was nowhere in sight, and the telltale 'victory shot' his mirror always made after battles signaled his partner's demise.  
 _Bugger, bugger, bugger-_  
Their first failure in a long, long while... He crept away at the disappearance of the red dot and trudged back to base. _pop, pop, pop_ , his joints protested, yet they were numbed by his distracted thoughts. Torn between frustration and concern, Charles settled on the latter, picking up the sluggish pace to meet him at respawn. Strangely, he hadn't noticed a thing out of the norm besides the wait time. Ordinary weather conditions, enemy paths, trails...  
Suppressing a shiver, he elbowed his way into the respawn room, opting not to ditch his jacket- _always freezing in here_ , he supposed, -and took a seat on the benches.

He sat, he waited, he watched for hours, undoubtedly having gone unnoticed by his teammates having been the introverted man he was. Doubt, worry, hell even fear had risen in his chest as every second ticked past. Having not recalled holding his breath, it hardly relieved him to sigh defeatedly. Patience worn thin, Charles had begun to haul himself back to his feet and ask Engineer, when the machine began to whir.  
Wrenching his head back towards the machine, a rather disgruntled Frenchman had been unceremoniously spat out of it, head fallen into their hands and laying unlifted, defeated, rare.  
"Mate, it's nine. Respawn ain't that long takin'."

Nothing, silence, it rang louder than the red alarms. 

Outcry, bursting out of the chest, deafening, rattling shrieks from tarred lungs.

No sound had come about, truly he could only have imagined that sort of noise from a man of such high stature, of sureness and conniving confidence, yet there he sat, distantly recalling the feeling of a warm body with cold hands wrapped in his arms, tears staining his already blue-hued shirt a greyer color.   
No words, only noise, soft, louder than sirens, there was fear, _what had happened..?_  
Charles felt his grip tighten against the suit of his friend, callouses against pinstripe. Whatever, _who_ -ever, had dared frighten a man who had gone unphased by the horrors of man, would meet the end of a shotgun barrel to the head. 

  
_Foolish_ , the lavish rogue dared not to cry, _Foolish!_  
They pity the teal splashed gunmen! _To be set in their stubborn stupor_ , they shouted, _it must be reason they lack!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the BLU's! The RED team is essentially your usual mercs, the real deal, the ones you know and love, whereas the BLU team is a bit... Different, per se.  
> ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Christmas break is over which means more updates! But before we begin, CHECK THIS OUT!!! A new friend on reddit (ipreferpintrest) made a LOAD of fanart of Edith and its just,, so pRETTY AAAAA!!!! ;;;;v;;; Check them out and give them a follow, their art is rlly cute im so flatter e d,,
> 
> https://www.reddit.com/user/Ipreferpintrest/comments/kll0il/whoops/  
> https://www.reddit.com/user/Ipreferpintrest/comments/kl9hc2/hhhh_hi/
> 
> TW: Blood, needles, general medical discomfort.

  
_Voices..._ Hit her like a speeding bullet train as her consciousness made a feeble attempt at making up for lost time, hyperaware but unable to move a limb. Her chest felt numb and pinched- as if it were too tight to breathe normally. Even though their tones were hushed, her ears roared at every little shift in waves.

It proved impossible to match the first whisper to a name or a face- and without being able to pry her eyelids open it would remain that way, much to her dismay. Though the second, more... Aggravated, sounding one was very clearly the German doctor from earlier that day.  
 _How long had she been out...?_

"Look, doc, all I'm saying..."

" _Nein_ , get out of my office, _Du bist unvernünftig._ "

"If you let them go, we won't have to deal with this mess anymore."

A bitter sigh bit at the edges of her hearing as the click of polished boots made their way towards where she was laying. A nervous tremor shook her arms, and the unknown voice fell silent for a moment, before she heard the door swing and slam as the stranger fled the room.

If Edith could weep, she would, the agony spread through her chest and limbs was unbearable, staining her clothes with what she could only assume was her own, hot blood spilling out of the sides of incisions. Unable to see the mess for herself, she could only imagine what gruesome mess laid before her. First day on the job, no wonder the pay was so high- but the thought was faint as best. Probably the blood loss, or even how bizarre her current status was.  
Cold rubber gloves lifted her hand, exposing her wrist with a quick flick of the thumb. She involuntarily shuddered, her eyes remaining useless and headache still pounding through her skull. Finally, her awareness began to fade and the last memory of the event clung to her brain like mud.   
Surgical precision, a long needle inserted into her arm, unknown mumbling and the brush of something soft. Pain shooting through her limbs once more, followed by the sweet release of unconscious, dreamless sleep one could only crave in fantasy. Drifting senseless through the void and enjoying rest, a rarity for those anxious minds out there. Peace.

Desiring to stay within her satisfied limbo for the next eternity, Edith chose to ignore the rapid shift in location, in lighting, and finally in _noise_. The racket those boys caused was deafening around her, echoing and shattering her eardrums until she failed to neglect it any longer. Rough fabric slid between her fingers and the press of a mattress against her back served as anchors as the peace furthered from her reach, distancing itself, before it disappeared entirely and dumped her into reality.

_Her_ room, _her_ bed, _her_ belongings.

Scrambling to throw the sheets off of her body and hoisting herself upwards with her elbows to wake herself up, Edith immediately regretted her plan as the lights slammed her eyes and rattled her head like a bat to a piñata. Groaning, she felt an arm catch her before she tumbled back forwards.  
It took a few moments to register her surroundings and the action the figure beside her had taken, but a blush rose the moment she had. Mouthing a ‘ _Sorry, thank you_ ,’ she forced herself to glance to her left, ignoring the bile clawing its way up her throat.

The room was empty of life save for the Engineer, who’s wistful but caring expression put her at ease, allowing her to focus and wake up a little, and relax her shoulders.

“Now, now, Miss Strategist. Don’t you panic none, doc said t’ keep ya from movin’ a lot ‘till the surgery fixes itself up.”  
 _Surgery..?_ , her mind squeaked, feeling her eyes widen to the size of an owl’s. The choked feeling prevented her from speaking, yet the man frowned in understanding, as if this happened on a regular basis.

“Ah know, he ain’t too… Erm, opposed, to rifling through us merc’s organs, but,” and he put up a finger to shush her as he said this, despite her itch to at least get some sort of word out- even if it came out a cough- “This time in particular, he had a reason, y’see. You’re hooked up t’ the respawn system now, so this,” he gestured to the mess of blood on the sheets and spattered across her t-shirt, “Shouldn’t hafta happen again.”

"O-Oh," she deflated slightly, breathing a sigh of relief. "O-Okay, Okay, I'm... Glad."  
Thinking about it, it was rather hard to breathe, and Edith took a curious look over herself. A massive incision had been made across her chest, and she noticed the uncomfortable poke of stitches burrowed between her shoulder blades and marching down her back.

Finally, after swallowing down the bile and laying backwards once more, she slowly turned to rest on her side and get a better look at the Engineer, who’s goggles were pushed to his forehead and his helmet resting on her desk.

_“What... Happened..?”_ She managed to croak, voice shaking with the effort of not coughing on the nice man in front of her. She’d rather be polite, _thank you very much_.

Engineer wrung his hands together, lips pursing slightly as if he were considering telling a lie, but his shoulders fell defeatedly as his gentlemanly nature took hold and he gave her the honest retelling.  
“Well, ya saw me die, I… Ma’am, I’d like to start off by sayin’ I’m flattered, but ah was under the impression that ya din’t know nothin’ about self defense.”

She confusedly shook her head. “I- I d-do-don’t, I don’t. But I-I guess- I guess in the moment- the moment I- thought… You were gone- gone for good…”

Eyebrows raising, Engineer shot a startled look her way, before it settled into sympathy. 

“Ah see. Well, ah appreciate it nonetheless, Miss Stra-”

“Edith.”

“A-Ah, Miss E-"

“Just Edith, please. I-I’m letting you say my name, I… I think I trust- I trust you the most. You’ve been… One of the nicest, to me. So far,” she said, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

Engineer fell silent for a moment, yet the pause was hardly awkward, rather contemplative in nature.  
“I see, ah suppose that’s hospitality for ya. Feel free to call me Engie, then. It’s my nickname.”

A comfortable smile settled across her face as she nodded, temporarily forgetting about the injuries. The southern drawl and subtle adjustments in posture to account for space reminded her of the old barn she used to visit as a kid back in Texas, when they had to flee thanks to the forest fires ravaging their own state.

“Thanks, Engie. I appreciate it. May I ask what else happened..?”

The Engineer drew a deep breath and took a seat on her chair by the bedside, tapping his chin.  
“I din’t get to see none of it myself, but if ah recall, ya survived a backstab jus’ long enough to turn his gun on ‘im and catch his throat with it. Medic had a field day with it, just sayin’.”

“O-Oh. _I did that?"_ She breathed, brows shooting upwards in awe.

“Yep. Clean shot too, ah reckon the safety was off. Had it not been, you coulda been a goner.”

“Oh… _Oh.”_

It dawned upon her that she had yet to have been wired to respawn, it was no wonder that surgery was involved. Someone had tried to kill her. _Did they know..?_

Her thoughts were halted by a hand firmly pressing on her shoulder.

“That’s enough talkin’ about the details, ma’am,” Edith nodded in response, swallowing down the rapidly growing pit of worry in her stomach. For Engineer’s sake, she’d bottle it away for the future. “Ah actually came in t’ check on ya. Pyro n’ I are on cooking duty, figured you’d want to be awake for dinner.”

Frankly, while Edith was flattered, her stomach protested at the thought of any sort of food at the moment. Ignoring it’s complaints, she nodded and smiled faintly.  
“I’m not feeling great, but I’ll try and join you all. I just need a sec.”

“Sure thing, miss. It won’t be for a while, ah’d suggest headin’ to the showers n’ cleanin yourself up in the meantime.”

“Oh-! Where..?” Anxiety turned to hope as she took a glance at her bloodied shirt and tangled hair, and Engineer let out a breathy chuckle at the shift in demeanor. “Just down the hall n’ to the right. You can jus’ chuck your laundry in the corner, we all sort it out later.”  
Sitting up once more and feeling miles better already, Edith gave the Engineer a thankful smile and stood up, sidling past him to where she had hung up her uniform.  
“I appreciate this a-a lot, thank you Engie.” She said, collecting her things and turning her head back to address him. “And um, thank you for putting up with me as I uh, get used to… This. Yeah.”

Her voice faltered slightly as she mentally cursed at herself for being an awkward gremlin of a woman. Tying her hair back so as not to look as remarkably messy on her way to the showers, she watched Engineer chuckle and place his hat back on. She wasn't sure if it was the futile action she just took that prompted it.

“Aw shucks, don’t think nothin’ of it. We all struggled our first few days here on base, it ain’t an issue.”

They both bid their goodbyes as Engineer hurried off to the mess hall, quietly snickering at the yells of “No, no, no fire! Pyro ah swear if we hafta replace the microwave for the _fifth time this month,_ ” their voices fading into the background as she wearily traveled down the hall. 

The chaos was beginning to feel a bit more homely, at least. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all, save for the bullets and the pain of stab wounds. The box and the words said behind her back had long since drifted to the back of her mind, merely waiting to rear their ugly heads at the wrong moment.

Yet, for now, she felt almost at ease- as much as one could be in a militaristic mercenary fort with 9 men trained in killing people.

That phrase held little weight to her for now.

Her hand gently pushed the latch and pulled the handle of the door.

_Right now, showering was mandatory._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to work on a lil website to reach more ppl about this fic, and have a place to store all the info on progress, 3D model renders, information on Edith/characters, images, lore, etc. I've finished the front page but otherwise its a massive wip, I'll let you guys know if I finish, though!  
> The site would include some extra tidbits too, and perhaps even a few...  
> Secrets? ;)


	8. the Mandatory Shower Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandatory shower scene, this shows up in almost every 10th class fanfic I've read. Therefore I am contractually obligated to write it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mandatory shower scene.

Thankfully, the locker room that housed the team showers were barren. Edith shuddered at the visualization of the supposed morning routine, 9 men sharing 6 stalls with only a ragged curtain separating each from the others. Alarmingly, it seemed they all shared hygienic supplies too, and a wave of relief washed over her shoulders at the comforting thought of being able to use her own. Momentarily rummaging about, she produced the cheap little bottles from her bag. Running her thumb over the top of one of them, the cheap, plastic apple scent fostered what comfort it could muster- if only miniscule in the long run.

Two sinks marked the side of the wall with tall, shockingly well cleaned mirrors. The floors seemed to have been swept of any prior mess, and the lockers lining the back seemed in decent shape. Rusty, perhaps, but it was far better than one would expect of mercenaries.

Edith couldn't help but chuff a laugh at the mass pile of mixed-up and muddy clothes, and she swiftly folded her own, neatly stationed next to the pile rather than inside. 

Tossing her non-bloodied outfit onto one of the benches, she cautiously entered the cleanest shower, wincing at the shriek of rusty metal against the curtain rings. Quietly running the water, Edith could only stare as cold streams rushed down her shoulders, washing away a flood of red and staining the green tile a sickly orange color. 

The freezing cold stream aided in alleviating her sore chest and shoulders, yet her mind hardly registered the sensation, unhindered by the calm and instead shooting thought after thought through her head like lightning bolts- no sense of pacing, disregarding her blank, glossy stare.

_You're a mercenary now, right?_  
_You kill people now, right?_  
_You're okay with this, right?_  
_Your mother would want this, right?_  
_You can support people, right?_  
_I'm gonna be safe, right?_  
_Am I going to be sorry?_  
_What happens if I'm bad at my job?_  
_What happens if I'm caught?_  
_What if my own team hates me?_  
_What if everyone hates me?_  
_How will I learn how to fight in such little time?_  
_How will I kill if I don't know how?_  
_How will I help if I can't use my own tools?_  
_Am I being watched?_  
_How is this allowed? How is this kept a secret?_

  
_Why me?_

  
**_Why me?_ **

  
**_Why me?_ **

Edith could hardly remember what she was doing and where she was until her hand had shut the water off, over-clean. When did she use her soap, what about her hair? Her thoughts quieted into background fuzz once more as she half-heartedly threw a towel over herself, leaning against the wall and letting out a shaky sigh. The stitches made themselves painfully aware, and she bit her lip in regret, forcing herself back into a sore standing position.

_Best not to keep them waiting._

Honestly, her head still protested any movement, aching with each tilt and gesture. Chest throbbing, back aching, Edith would really rather lie down and sleep. Messy track records wouldn't serve her any good, however, so she carefully redressed and fixed her hair in the mirror, frowning at the deep circles creased beneath her eyes. Tying the strands back into a neat ponytail, she decided to add a personal touch- it was a ceasefire after all, no need for practicality. Swiftly pulling a cherry red ribbon from her bag of clothes, she examined it for a moment- softly reminding herself of the importance this garment retained, before wrapping it into her hair, watching the tail ends flutter every so often from the chilly air conditioning flooding from the vents.

Casting one last look around the locker room, Edith made a mental note to find the best time to shower away from the others. Having initially been a secretary, it restored a bit of confidence to remember her old routines- something she could reliably _do._

Assuring her things hadn't been disturbed since leaving her little abode and dropping her supplies into her desk drawer, she couldn't help but dread the next hour. Sure, a wonderful smell wafted from somewhere downstairs, but no amount of food or socialization could distract her from the pit of worry steadily swallowing any positive thoughts she could muster. Exhausted, she felt no drive to waive it away. Now that hunger was beginning to gnaw at her stomach, though, the time she had set aside to prepare herself had run dry- and the nightmare of socialization was overdue to begin.

Edith hesitated in front of the door to the mess hall, having no memory of walking there in the first place. Just as she began to take a deep breath and square her shoulders, she let out a sharp yelp, stumbling backwards into the wall as they swung open, nearly smacking her to the ground as they had with Engineer. However, instead of the Sniper standing in the doorway, it was a strange man with a booming voice and a helmet shoved over his eyes, jaw trembling with each movement.

As soon as his... Gaze? Fell upon the poor soul, the man's back straightened and he offered a hand and a salute, which she gratefully took.

"APOLOGIES PRIVATE! YOU MUST BE A **MASTER OF STEALTH**! I DID NOT SEE NOR HEAR YOU COMING!"

The warm, casual chatter within the room halted, and save for the Engineer and Pyro busy in the kitchen, all eyes were on her. A blush swiftly made its way to her cheeks and Edith bit her lip, shying away. Some had a suspicious glint in their eye, others looked neutral, and one in particular was blocked by a familiar pair of strawflower aviators.

_Inside._

This place never failed to baffle her.

Before she could raise a hand to wave, the military-esque man had yanked her into the room, muttering something about "now they have some respect-"  
"Um, I-"  
"SILENCE, PRIVATE! Sit here cupcake." She jumped at the rapid swap between loud and demanding to soft and welcoming, yet the others appeared unfazed. Another unrecognizable man with an eyepatch and a dripping bottle of... What she could only assume was some illicit substance, sat next to the Soldier. He patted the empty seat in front of him, directly next to scout, who shot her a venomous look.

"I- I'd really rather-" "I AM THE SOLDIER, but I would MUCH RATHER YOU CALL ME YOUR COMMANDER!" Her head was beginning to pound and her vision was beginning to blur a bit. "AND THIS IS DEMOMAN-"

His excited demeanor cooled off immediately at the touch of his partner in crime, 'Demoman'. She gave him a thankful look as she touched a hand to her forehead, exhaling slightly.   
"Give the lass a second to breathe, Solly. Uber surgery, remember?"

Before she could question what _'uber'_ meant, the vibe around the table lightened significantly at the happy chime of "Mmph-hf!" "Dinners ready, hold on a sec!"

Grateful that the focus was now off of her as they carried in plates of... Something, and whatever it was smelled delicious. Even Scout and Sniper seemed to smile upon seeing the dishes.

_Maybe she could stomach something after all._

The mood shifted to a much homelier atmosphere once the plates had been passed around. Now it certainly reminded her of her time back in Texas... On the platter laid perfectly made Chicken fried steak and gravy with a kolache each on the side. After a brief thank you to the Texan and the... Pyro, right, Pyro, they all dug in. 

_What a mess._

'Demoman', despite having a bottle of... _Something_ alcoholic beside him, was eating surprisingly politely, especially in comparison to Soldier and Scout.

Edith wasn't quite sure if Scout was doing this on purpose, but considering the other's willing ignorance of his loud chewing and sloppy eating, this was a daily occurrence. Soldier was only barely better, at least covering his mouth with his hand as he spoke.

" **THIFH IHT THH BEFT MMRICAN FOOHD EVER! YRR MAHDE DIS CONHTREY PHRUD!** "

Engineer let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. Strange, he kept it on in her room too...  
"It's nothin', firebug did mosta' the work, t' be fair..."

She couldn't help but break out in a grin at his humble attitude, though, so she decided to poke a bit, willing the courage to speak. Of course, she swallowed first, _unlike a certain somebody._

"He's right, you know. This is probably the best thing I've had... Ever, almost rivals momma's cooking..." She wistfully glanced at her plate, scraping at the gravy to pour it back over some of the food. She beamed when his flustered tics only became more noticeable, hiding his face beneath his hard-hat.

"Shucks, ya'll are too sweet, really..."

Pyro reached over the table from across the room, nearly breaking the doctor's plate as they happily mumbled in agreement, patting Engie's head before sitting back down. How they managed to pull something like that around Medic was little less than shocking to say the least. Before Edith could exclaim an apology in Pyro's defense, the conversation had already moved on and she forced her mouth shut.

What with Engie's inability to handle praise and Scout's now obnoxious chatter to people on the other side of the room, It became Heavy's turn to change topics, peering down at her like a boxer evaluating it's opponent.

Smile fading, Edith cleared her throat, nervously placing her fork to the side as she forcibly made eye contact. "Is... Something wrong, Sir?"

"No, nothing wrong. Heavy is curious of something."

Now frowning, her only thought was here we go, mentally preparing for the questions about their new hire to begin rolling forth. Much to her surprise, however, it was far less nosy than she had expected.

"You have family, da? You mention mother."

"Y.. Yes. Yes! Actually, um," She stammered, guard completely crushed as she faltered, searching for words. "I, haven't seen her- In a while, after I... Left to, left to go work at..." Biting her lip, she decided to give a half-truth, "A job as a secretary... Um. In an office, but- she's so very sweet, I've been sending savings over to her to help pay the bills..."

Heavy nodded sagely, a knowing but dark look crossing his expression. "Da, I am sending money as well. To Russia, I have many sisters and mother there. We are same."

Deciding not to ask about his father, she instead imagined what that must have been like. With the current state of all countries for the most part, Edith had pushed the idea of even visiting someday out of her head. Still, she inquired further, carefully treading the path of conversation that could easily lead to darker places.

"I-I used to want to go there... I doubt that's going to happen any time soon though," she went to take a bite of her pastry, only to realize it was gone. Gaze moving bewilderedly from mercenary to mercenary, she noticed an extra bit of jam around Scout's mouth. Rolling her eyes, she continued, "I heard the weather can be rough, though."

"Da, is very cold. Good defense." He said, crossing his arms. "Heavy is used to freezing weather, hot desert is big change."

"I bet. You speak Russian, then? I assume that's why your English is-" She cut herself off, unsure if it was a sore spot. "I mean it's good, but you aren't quite fluent."

"Heavy knows this. Is not bad to say needing more to learn. I have a PhD in Russian literature."  
"Wait, really?" Her eyes wandered to the rest of the team. Maybe I'm not the only one who came unprepared. "I can see that, I suppose I shouldn't ask why you..."

"No, should not. _Я тебе не скажу,_ is not little girl's business." His expression hardened to a steely look, before softening at her as she leaned back, apologetically covering her mouth. "I do not blame you for curiosity, is good to want to learn more."

"I-I'm very very sorry, though, sir, I truly didn't mean to-"

" _Ничего_ , tiny Strategist is forgiven."

"Thank you..." She whispered, eyes casting back towards the floor. _So much for making amends, dumbass._ She had one job, _one,_ and failed _again_. Kicking herself mentally for her lack of self control, she stood up to clean her own dish.

It prompted some odd looks, but she thought nothing of it. After all, most of the people here had... Issues, with being polite. She'd have to get used to it. Sassy, almost, was her gait towards the sink. Finally, one of them spoke up.

"Wait, isn't it _their_ turn to do the dishes?"

Edith paused, raising a brow as she turned back towards the voice that had decided to pipe up, Scout.  
  
"Well, I figured I'd be polite," she pursed her lips slightly, turning on the water. Pyro gave a thumbs up as she grabbed the sponge, and Engineer only blushed again.

"Well now, we appreciate it, but it's really not a big-"

"Whoops, already clean!~" She interrupted, a simper falling across her expression. Not only were the mercenaries caught off guard by her sudden confidence, Edith was as well. She also did a bit of tidying up as she returned back to the table so as not to just stand there awkwardly. Maybe this was that little bit of her mother coming out in the way she acted, but it felt far less difficult now that she had something to work off of in terms of how to speak and _act_ around these people.

_Some of them, anyway._

Sniper had yet to speak a word, nor had anyone even cast a glance his way, though she felt his gaze trained on her back as she swept the perimeter, using the window of opportunity to take account of visual quirks and who they could belong to, now in the same room.

**EMPTY BOTTLE**

****

_Still unclean. Matches the same brown color of what Demoman is holding. Does he make these? Or buy them. I don't recognize any brand, they're unlabeled._

**BONK!**

****

_A disgustingly sugar filled energy drink, I really hope "Atomic" is a flavor, not a quality._

**WET CIGARETTE**

****

_Ew. It's on the floor, looks like it fell out of the trash. I'd throw it away, but I don't want to touch it._

__

Time continued, and her eyes fell upon a list tacked to the wall, messily written and clearly fought over. Above, in bold lettering, said:

" **KITCHEN LIST** "

Frowning in confusion, Edith cast her gaze back to the other Mercenaries, who had been talking amongst themselves. The sharpshooter continued to watch, of course, and Engineer had paused his conversation with Medic to peer curiously back at her. She waved, and he sheepishly returned the gesture.   
Noticing the bit of commotion, Soldier raised his head and swiveled it to look at what was going on, before a floppy grin fell across his face.

Raising his voice to settle the room to silence, he stood up.  
"RIGHT! THERE IS A NEW RECRUIT! MEN, YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!"

The entire group groaned tiredly, and Edith only smiled empathetically at their exasperation.  
"PLANNING! LIST CHANGES! FIRST AND FOREMOST," he barked, marching to the list and pulling it off the wall, "KITCHEN LIST! WE COOK IN PAIRS! THIS WILL CHANGE!"

Watching with interest, Edith leaned against the wall by the table, shoulders settling a pinch as she looked at the sheet, stifling a laugh at the disorganized mess that was likely once quite tidy, clearly repurposed from some sort of Mann Co form.

Exhaling, she straightened her back and placed her hands on her hips, regarding the table with a curious stare.

"Alright, how are we doing this?"


	9. Kitchen List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to include an sfm or something, I also had some 15.ai things but I'd rather get this chapter out sooner rather than later. In other news, I have a tumblr now!   
> https://tf2strategist.tumblr.com/   
> I'll be posting headcanons, art, and info regarding the fic!
> 
> Anonymous asks are currently ON as of writing this, but the second ya'll misbehave it turns off, y'hear?

"So, how are we doing this..?"

"GLAD YOU ASKED, MAGGOT!"

Soldier began to pace a circle around the table of comrades with his tongue slightly poking out between his lips. Minutes passed, and Edith began to wonder if the question had been forgotten. Opening her mouth to speak, she readied herself to reiterate, but Soldier beat her to it, seemingly out of his hyper-focus in an instant.

"ALL OF US WORK IN PAIRS, SAVE FOR THE BASTARD FRENCHFRY! YOU WILL JOIN ONE, OR BE ALONE!"

Self consciously wringing her hands together, Edith gave the rest of the table a curious stare. Unable to even comprehend figuring any of this out on her own, she tentatively strolled over to the Engineer, clearing her throat.  
"Got room for another?"

Engie gave an apologetic frown, placing a hand behind his hardhat. "Ah 'pologize, ma'am. But ah don' think firebug an' I can handle 'nother helper in the kitchen."

 _oh_ , she thought, biting her lip. _There goes my best shot._   
Eyes wandering to the rest of the table, she next looked at heavy.

Before even asking, Heavy proclaimed his loud opinion to the entire group.  
"Heavy is with doktor! Not change this!"

Hand sliding across the tabletop, the mad doctor met him halfway, hand resting on top of Heavy's own. Impossible not to smile at the display, she nodded. "Understandable, uhm... Hey, why is spy alone, anyway?"

No response from the corner table, where the Frenchman stood, cigarette perched between his lips. Instead, much to her surprise, it was Sniper who gave a response, despite having given her the silent treatment for the last hour.

"He's like that on the battlefield too. Doesn't like to work with people, not part o' the job, sheila." 

"Oh. Okay," she deadpanned, foot tapping as her mind swam with indecision. So far her best options had been extinguished, there was no chance of her working with inside-aviators over there, Scout was pissed off at her, and frankly, Soldier scared the living daylights out of her.

"Um. Demo? What about you?"

"Aye lass, I'm sorry, Snipes and I promised tae pair up again earlier," he replied, gesturing to the sharpshooter and giving a nervous half-grin, likely inwardly cringing at the awkwardness of each passing interaction.

"THAT LEAVES SCOUT AND ME!"  
"Scout and _I_ , _herr Soldier_."  
"MOUTH SHUT FRITZ!"  
"I vhill sew yours shut, _schweinhund._ "

That was enough to put the patriot at bay, though begrudgingly as he trudged back to the front.   
Scout interrupted their moping when his hand shot out from the table and grabbed Soldier's.

"I'm with soldier!"

"WHAT."

"Two pair. Soldier and I."

"YOU WERE WITH ME LAST TIME, MAGGOT! YOU HATE ME! YOU SAID SO YOURSELF!"

"When'd I do that? Nah nah nah man," Scout bluffed, meeting Edith's eyes directly in a passing glance, turning his head back to look at Soldier, who genuinely appeared taken aback, helmet slanted lightly to the side and showing wide eyes.

What happened between them, she wondered, that he'd be shocked? "We're like, best buds man! Besides, I'd rather be on your team than with the new recruit."

Helmet fairly unbalanced by now and threatening to topple off of his head entirely, Soldier narrowed his eyes at the Scout, crossly pressing his lips together, before speaking again, it rocking back into place to cover his expression.

"THEN YOU WILL BE WITH THE RECRUIT! THIS WILL SERVE YOU WELL, MAGGOT! TRAINING IN TEAMWORK!"

"Uhh, uh, uh-" he stammered, eyebrows raising enough to be clearly visible, even from behind. "Then... Then. Then, I'd rather be on my own! I-I can dothat..." 

He could not do that.

From a passing _glance_ across the street, he could not do that.

Everyone winced.

They knew. Clearly he'd done this before, and Edith inferred just how monumental of a disaster it blew into.  
"YOU. Would rather... Be alone, if you cannot work with me?"

"U-Uhm, yeah!" He replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Soldier's inquisitive leer had changed to an unreadable expression. Almost, it seemed, unsure. _Conflicted._

It was blinked away in an instant, replaced by fiery excitement as he landed a punch square on the Scout's shoulder, prompting a hiss of pain as he placed a fist to his own chest. "WELL THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SO, MAGGOT?! I MAY SHED A TEAR, THIS IS THE AMERICAN WAY!"  
"Y-yeah, yeah." 

Edith watched with mild interest as they chatted amongst themselves, but the buzz of conversation faded as her own worry presented itself at the forefront of her thoughts. She would have to go alone, then. Realization of such had left her paralyzed, blankly staring at the rest of the team.  
 _tap, tap._

"Oh dear, it appears you have been outcast. But, _mon ami_ , there is one you have yet to ask."

 _When did he get there?_ , Edith froze up at the soft brush of breath against her ear, shivering and stumbling forwards, wheeling around to confront the Frenchman. Yet the space in front of her was void of life.

"Who might that be..?" She muttered, instinctively lifting her hands to the cotton hem of her sleeves, as if to ward off an invisible threat.

Warily eyeing the table, it became clear that all conversation had moved on without her, as if she were a ghost. If the pain in her limbs hadn't felt so real, Edith too would have been convinced as such. Self consciously wrapping around herself as she stood and observed the goings-on, she began to ponder, what had effectively paused her enthrallment with these men, having prior been thrilled to learn the ins and outs of the class personalities. 

Much too familiar of an emotion. Gray, drab, unfeeling, getting through the day as a dejected puppet to a larger cause, creating framework for a project doomed to fail. Rows upon rows of the newest technology, tiny little screens full of data, text, bulbous mice and clacking keyboards, separated into cubicles with beige, lifeless walls.

Dead-eyed employees hunched over desks, painfully inputting data that meant nothing to them. Merely another job, another statistic, another day in a week in a month. 

As a secretary, Edith had only meant to observe, to ensure, yet eventually those statistics became names, people, lives within a tiny little world, bustling about and shouting to be moved elsewhere. Yearning to reach out to those names, to help, to learn more, expand it, protect it, yet her life was doomed to be confined to those chosen for her, just as every other woman of the time.

Light, a bright flash enveloping the dark, shattering through a mental haze. A large hand on her shoulder, "Edith, right?", he had questioned, a pearly white smile decorating a friendly face, soft creases across encouraging features. _Safety_ , _warmth_. 

"I've heard a lot about you. Say, a couple o' our coworkers mentioned a thing or two, said you had some real talent outside of your current job."

Edith stared in awe as she spun on her heel, heart quietly fluttering within her chest. Realization, that this was the company head. What, pray tell, brought him to this tiny branch of business, located in the middle of nowhere. Who were those coworkers, fright beginning to spin lies of trouble brewing, danger lurking, that somehow she had faulted an important higherup. 

Towering height, intimidating, yet soft as silk, shaped like a friend, suit colored that of children's memories, crayons, relaxed and unimposing upon the surrounding area. She opened her mouth to speak, yet nothing came out, professional language melting away and leaving her mouth dry. 

Roving from her shoulder, the hand took her own, tiny upon a massive palm, and thus became the earliest memory of Edith smiling, a genuine, bright, bubbling little thing. Joyful to meet someone with compassion, belief in possible change of the current status quo. The words of their exchange detailing the why's and how's regarding the impromptu visit were fuzzy, but positive in every sense of the word. _Promotion._

Then the storm broke. Lightning snapped against the heels of time, leaping into a fresh start without warning. Grey walls became darker and more sinister, yet Edith had hardly noticed, cheerfully improving, designing, planning, advancing skyward in the stairwell of status. Only when that hand felt closer, when flirtatious comments were thrown between compliments as Edith edited the tangled web of data strings, enjoying life and work that her mistakes became more prominent, and sickly corrosion began eating away at the feeling of safety, leaving disorienting clarity of mind in it's wake.

Hardly noticing that her stance had tightened, arms constricting around her chest, Edith took a brief look at her surroundings.

Grey walls, darker, deeper, reflecting fear back into her glasses, too-bright fluorescent lights, fancy hallways decorated by grim, garish ornaments. Tile floor. The wet floor sign was a monochrome silver.

Hand to her hip. Unwelcome. Dripping with disgust.

_Then **RED.**_

Missing colors returned, rushing her senses with vibrant hues, representing emotion, anger, despair, revenge, happiness, regret, bittersweet like red berries in the winter, persevering through the harshest of weather.

So when spy returned to her side, uncloaking with a far less decietful smile, offering Edith a final chance, the whiplash stung more than any wound could. 

Reality settled, the conversation continued, the world moved on.

"Who, you ask? Well, you have yet to invite me, _stratégiste_."

Blinking, Edith felt herself speak, yet failed to comprehend her own thoughts.  
"W-Wait, but I thought you wanted to be alone..?"

"Ah, you misunderstand, _mon ami_. In fact, I am almost offended you believed that filthy bushman's words upfront," He began, a firm hand grasping her wrist and leading her over to his own corner. " _Non_ , while I wish not to work with these imbeciles, I see no reason not to take this as an advantage. You are one I cannot disguise as, nor do you seem as... _Brash_."

Edith bit her lip, nodding. No interrupting, don't ruin this for yourself. Again.

"So!" He stood up straight, folding one arm behind his back, extending the other in invitation.

" _Puis-je me joindre à vous ?_ "


	10. Blood Buddies (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being so long that I had to split it into two parts! Since I don't want to go back on my word with the chapter 10 preview image, chapter "11" will still technically be under the label 10! Whoops.  
> Enjoy the overextended > 6,000 word chapter, I guess! Over 6,000 words in part ONE, anyway.
> 
> That's uh, why this took so long by the way.  
> I think I had a bit of burnout with how much I decided to write.

Resilient, unbreakable against harsh winter wind, a man stood, huddled over the malnourished women he had been tasked with shielding from the cold, the government, the world, immune to their witnessed horrors and dedicating himself to one goal, one promise.

_Protect this family._

_Provide for this family._

_This family is mine, and they cannot be taken away._

Bringing home money, food, warmth, required dedication to his craft, and being an exiled member to society, Mikhail escaped the country and found himself a foreigner in a brand new world unlike his own. Humidity left sweat rolling down the back of his neck, heat blasting in waves before cooling to "coat weather", hardly comparable to the hellish, glacial blizzards that left their country uninhabitable to those unable to brave it. Not only that, but the few non-guarding residents were friendly, kind, helpful, _hospitable_ , a far cry from the discipline he had been used to.

This man had lived through hell, and these American citizens were none the wiser.  
Having taken a job polishing weapons in an elderly man's firearm shop, a flier had caught his eye fluttering past from beyond the window. Perhaps Mikhail had not properly heeded the brief foreshadowing, though, as fate sent a woman clad in a short purple dress swinging through the door, bell chiming in tune to her arrival.

The second her bright eyes fell upon the silent giant, and it was a vivid memory- he recalled, her lips twisted into a satisfied grin, business-like and perilous- and it was then that the poor man knew that she was unlike his family- but brought opportunity in her wake.

Heavy would soon follow her to the ends of the Earth, so long as he was paid quarterly.

Mikhail, or "Heavy", despite his disdain towards the chattier members of his team, had soon learned none were an odd variable in the machine. All had strange stories, personalities, special aspects that knit them together. Unable to understand half of the words they poured into the air, he had taken to studying their language, silently listening and piecing together knowledge through context. 

Though listening hardly became an issue, speaking left much to be desired. After all, English had a plethora of unbelievably dumb rules and grammar exceptions. Therein lied the issue, in which he was immediately presumed dumb.

That is, until he had met the doctor, someone who had more burrowed knowledge than anyone should have any right to hold- not just pity, but relating directly to his issues and gripes. 

What it's like to be assumed something you aren't, and never were.

Back to the present, Heavy had thrown on a pair of work shoes, comfortable pants and a cotton tank, which had been a custom made gift from years prior by a teammate, though the identity of whom had been long forgotten. Drawing a cloth over the top of his beloved gun, he made his way into the crisp morning air, striding in the direction of the training warehouse.

His entrance was met with soft clattering from the practice targets, but he thought not of it. The place ought to be creaky at this hour, awake before any others and yet to be softened by the rotten breath of summer heat. Rummaging about, he procured his trusty boxing gloves from his labeled crate, setting them beside the punching bags and beginning to stretch.

Halfway through a lunge, he was started back to his feet by a loud _CRAK!_ in the direction of the targets, signaling a missed bullet. This was followed by a loud, vulgar hiss and curses as their unexpected visitor shuffled about, clearly having dropped their weapon in surprise.

"Who is there?" He rumbled, cautiously approaching the commotion. Expecting scout, he opened his mouth to preach the importance of gun safety, only to find the Strategist hastily gathering their bearings, looking around for the source of Heavy's comment. Upon meeting each other's eyes, her fearful, shaken expression melted into overwhelming embarrassment, which Heavy chose to ignore, instead lifting the mercenary to her feet and dusting off her clothes.

She stiffened.

_Ah, right, is not my sisters,_ he reminded himself, though the way she held herself certainly threw him for a loop. It was the same, uncomfortable, unsure and terrified stance they had first taken all those years ago. Yet he remained stoic, shaking off the reminder and allowing her to regain her bearings.

"I-I don't know how to shoot, this is all brand new to me..." She whispered, heels digging into the grainy concrete beneath her as she steadied herself. Right away, Heavy noticed she'd yet to even reload, so her genuine insecurity was out of the question. 

"Is loud, makes littol woman startled, yes?"

"Y-eah... _very_ loud," She replied, gingerly reaching towards her likely ringing ears. Nodding in understanding, he left his voice at a low murmur, in reaction to which her posture seemed to relax ever so slightly. "Heavy will show you, follow hand." 

Slowly but surely, he went through the movement of reloading. Automatic for him, but it seemed foreign to the woman, who's hands clearly still shook from adrenaline. He patiently repeated the motion a couple of times until she seemed far less unsure, then allowing her to do it once on her own. The strategist let out a long, soft sigh, allowing a moment of silence, before she attempted to aim. Before she took the shot, however, her gaze met Heavy's at the turn of her head, as if urging him to correct it. 

_Validation_ , he recalled the English word. She asks for _validation_.

Tempted to do so, Mikhail physically held himself back, slowly shaking his head. "Use first, I will say what Strah-te-jist does bad."

Replying only with a hushed _'oh'_ , she swiveled her head back to the targets, shakily aiming at the closest. Ironically, a scout. 

**_CRAK!_**

Missed again. Squeaking, the woman practically leapt into his arms, bumping his side and furiously apologizing. Lifting a hand to allow her to hide, he felt the rapid, faint beating of her heart as she briefly slid past, eyeing his arm before he could shift it near her collarbone. _ah_ , he retracted his hand. _Not do that_.

Instead, he paused for her to reload once more, then silently corrected her form, murmuring changes and tips. And this went on for an hour or two, the trainee gradually improving- though her aim remained lackluster at best. Eventually, the Strategist returned the pistol to it's rightful place on the shelves, shoulders sagging in clear defeat.

"Work here is not all about gun. can use weapon as well. Heavy uses fists."

Dejectedly raising her head, she sent a befuddled glance his way, following the loose hand gesture he made towards the dustier, unlabeled boxes of discarded melee weapons. 

"Can only pick one, is big decision, but for littol woman, is best decision."

" _I understand..._ " She quavered, trudging over to the dusty corner and swinging down onto her knees, arms resting atop them as she examined the rusty heap of weapons mixed together into a single crate, each impossible to distinguish from the other without lifting it away.

_Why do I watch this?_ Heavy pondered, backing off to the punching bags to where he could watch at a distance. Surely he should be training, yet something kept him rooted to the spot. 

Initially, when they had been sent to pick their weapons, each mercenary had immediately gravitated towards the perfect match, which, first try, became their favorite. Changes were only made when allowed to pick a new option, and that left only the least preferable until the next weapons shipment.

Yet the indecision was clear in her features, weighing her options and scattering them across the floor, bits and bobs between that could be wrapped together into a makeshift upgrade. Pity was not something Heavy felt often- for it was forbidden on the battlefield- sparing others was frowned upon, going friendly only allowed out of sheer boredom. 

Yet there it was, clear as day, _pity_. Strategist had been left with the bare minimum, no experience, and no drive, and it made sense his brotherly instincts had overcome him. Underneath it was confusion and a spark of frustration. Who had decided to hire this girl? Surely it was a mistake.

_Must be._

Her eyes flicked between her options, having narrowed it down to a pair of gloves with a dagger haphazardly attached to the knuckle, long enough to not cut the finger it was attached to, a rusty old crowbar, and a sort of leather umbrella shield. 

Her hand gravitated towards the dagger, yet, Heavy noticed, she hesitated before sliding it onto her hand. Dusting herself off, she carefully kept it away from the fabric of her shirt, bringing the other two weapons with her to the training targets.

Throwing punch after punch, swipe after swipe, it became clear to the two that the knife had been dulled over the course of time, not to mention her arms were too weak to make a large impact. Splinters flew, but it hardly budged, leaving her panting and frustratedly stabbing at random, eventually cutting a shallow wound across her upper arm from the lack of focus.

Heavy chuckled as she slid the glove off, proceeding to _hurl_ it back into the bin with little precision, bending over to snatch the crowbar. _Ah, there it is_ , his mind rumbled, leaning against a support beam with an amused grin. 

_"RRrgAH!"_ shouted Strategist, hooking the shoulder of the target with the claw of the crowbar, swinging it upwards and snapping the thin wood, sending splinters flying. A loud _**WHAK!**_ as she slammed the shaft into it's chest, followed by a harsh, swift shove of it's heel broke the timber in half, leaving the Strategist panting, leaning one hand on her knee and the other on the weapon, beads of sweat already running down her forehead.

Heavy simply nodded to himself, deciding he would postpone his exercise. Quietly slipping through the large doorway, he left the little woman to her own devices. Understanding trust, he kept his mouth closed as he passed the Doktor's office on his way back to the room. Strategist could tell only if she desired to.

He may not understand why she had joined the team, but the least he could do is allow them the chance to be a part of their family, their group of hired mercenaries. 

Just as he had years before.

**семья**

* * *

**ALERT!**   
**MISSION BEGINS IN THIRTY SECONDS.**

"Aye lass, just remember tae stick b'neath t' map, like we planned, right?"

Hands clasping and unclasping as she shakily inhaled, exhaled, and listened to the steady ticking of the mission clock, Edith hardly felt that she could listen to Demo's words. A plan was more than appreciated, and it certainly was heartwarming a couple of the more outgoing men were determined to contribute tidbits of information. 

No, she admired it, the fact of the matter being that she had no clue how her own tools worked, leaving only the brief rundown from Miss Pauling. Practice had been out of the question, but attempting to yielded no results, as it seemed the circuitry surrounding the base had shut off amidst ceasefire. Knowing what was ahead proved increasingly difficult now that she was actually here, mind you. Learning under pressure was never Edith's strong suit either.   
All in all, this would be hell on earth.

_I signed up for this._

_Yikes!_

"That's all you have to say..?" she muttered towards nobody in particular, shifting her weight back and forth to alleviate the tension in her legs. Stress had frozen each muscle to the spot, and that wouldn't do at all, _not when the-_

**MISSION BEGINS IN TEN SECONDS.**

Startled by a light punch to the shoulder, the unmistakable, massive figure of Heavy knelt beside her, too tall for small talk otherwise. Rather comical, but she wasn't laughing. Others had already strapped their weapons over their shoulders, preparing to hurry off to their own corners, save for him.

"Do not forget, enemy dies, weapon is yours until you die. Take advantage of this."

"O-oh, okay." _You can DO that???_ , She gave an incredulous look his way, but it was not reciprocated nor seen, as the countdown began. Trembling with adrenaline, Edith took one last glimpse around the room. Spy was nowhere to be seen, Engineer was clutching a large metal box in one arm, the red almost shining against the tile floor with his wrench at the ready.

**FIVE!**

Scout flipped his bat around in his hand, carelessly flinging it in circles with a nonchalant grin. Soldier braced himself in a running position, managing not to fall over with the comically large rocket launcher balancing on his shoulder.

**FOUR!**

Pyro let out a muffled yell, thrusting their flamethrower in the air in excitement. Demoman took a swig of their scrumpy bottle, then smashed it on the ledge of his locker.

**THREE!**

_Whuh?_ , she blinked as Spy appeared to vanish into thin air, only a ripple showing he had yet to tread forwards. Staring at where he had been only seconds before, she realized the ripple had melted away.

**TWO!**

Heavy let out a roaring war cry, revving his minigun. Behind him stood the doctor, a peculiar backpack strapped around his shoulders with a sort of hose attached to it. _Odd_ , Edith thought, _Is it glowing?_

**ONE!**

Lastly, Aviators tipped his hat and readied his hands, gripping the rifle and steadying his posture. Too relaxed for her liking, though she supposed it could be a front. Part of her doubted that notion, but she decided not to dwell on it.

**FIGHT!**

Fidgeting with the device weighing heavily in her arms, the remainder of the mercenaries shot out the door, yelling various insults at the other team and rallying cries. Instantly, Edith was alone.

The screen fuzzed and darkened despite her best attempts to get it working, sending panic shooting through her veins. Earpiece springing to life, a familiar, friendly voice made itself known.

"Psst, Strategist! Get out there! Respawn is too far from your targets to do any use, y'know!"

"Wwait- but, but you said-"

"You shouldn't be in any danger so long as you hide! Remember, you're hooked up to respawn."

"R..Right."

_Right? RIGHT? How is any of this right?!,_ her mind cried, but she squashed it down with a reminder of the paycheck she would receive. _Suffer through it, it's gonna be worth it... I hope._

A deep inhale, alongside the _CRAK, **SNAP!**_ Of bullets ricocheting off of the wood in front of respawn, and she was off, sprinting as fast as she could with the distressing knowledge that if she stopped, the enemy would surely slaughter her. Initial attempts to calm her nerves had proved utterly pointless as the world blurred and slowed, ducking into the side hallway and skidding past the ammo littered across the floor, leaping far higher and longer than she had ever thought possible.

Time crawled forwards as Edith hurtled through the air and past the initial blockade of bullet shells, feeling the slow pull of gravity raise her stomach and heart. Allowing the chance to _think_ , she decided the best prevention to falling down the stairwell would be to rocket her legs forwards, catching them on the balustrade and using the crowbar to pry herself to a stop, hardly managing to balance on the thin platform, lifting her mapping machine under her sore arm.

Stumbling to a halt, she briefly took a moment to readjust her footing and grip, before descending down the stairway. Bullet noise replaced by gentle pops above the underground bunker, Edith stumbled to the closest server room, wedging herself between the rows and glancing back at the tablet. Sure enough, the simplified map of her surroundings blinked to life, 9 red dots and two temporary blu pings fading off and leaving the others standing, she tapped the earpiece and cleared her throat.

"A-Alright, sorry- sorry for the delay you guys, um, seems you hit two blu guys heading towards the front base doors."

Immediately, a yell from Soldier. "AFFIRMATIVE!" Following which was a message from Heavy, "Da, escaped to sewers. Can strah tejest see where gone?"

Initially, she shook her head, then realized the others couldn't see it. Hurrying to reply, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "No, looks like I can only see them when they're hit, then they're gone. Um, hold on... Sewers are directly beneath, aren't they? Let me see..."

Twisting the side-knob and thumbing the button to select, Edith's eyes widened at the reverberating _SLAM!_ that immediately sounded throughout the base as the sewer entrance snapped shut. Biting her lip, she watched the red dot of what turned out to be Scout frozen in front of the closed door.

"Yo, what's the big idea? I was 'boutta bash 'er brains in!"

Faintly regarding her shaking hands with a frown, she muttered a couple of spanish curses to herself, before raising her voice again. "I pressed it too soon, I was hoping it'd keep further intruders out- I apologize-"

"Yeah, well-" the pissed voice argued, she could practically _hear_ the crossing of his arms, "learn faster! they're gonna cap the intelligence!"

"Give tha lass a break, lad, we all struggled tha first week, dinnae we?"

"Yeah yeah whatevah, lemme just get the intelligence while they _steal_ ours," he muttered, voice cutting out near the end as he focused on invading the enemy base. The glowing dot waded towards the enemy base, before rushing a path underneath.

Blearily regarding the device in her hands, she made an attempt to concentrate once more, straining her senses to listen for incoming enemies through both her own and other's audio outputs. 

_Ping!_ , two BLU.

"Whoevers in the intelligence room- I don't know- doesn't matter, sorry, um- you've got two incoming!"

_"Mh-FrRRh!"_ sounded the speakers, and a chuckle from what seemed to be Engineer. Her suspicions were confirmed to be true as loud beeping sounded further down from the server rooms, and battle cries turned to screams of fear- then agony, then silence.

"Nice work, pyro! Got 'em before the sentries did," he laughed, though the thought of Engie _laughing_ at people _dying_ proved to be a terrifying mental image. Shoving it to the back of her mind, she reminded herself to focus.

A ghostly whistle, musical in nature, made itself known between the rows of servers. No, no, must have been a bomb near the top of the base. Two X's marked where scout had entered the base, along with a friend, whom she had yet to identify. Tapping her foot, Edith fidgeted with the device's knob, the communication having since faded into the background. _Ping!_ Their response to her warning was muted to her ears at best.

Shakily, Edith muttered comforting phrases to herself, shifting her knees to prop up the tablet. Cold, smooth metal soothed her nerves and allowed her to ground herself, though her breath still came in wavering lengths.

"Nervous, are we?"

Rang a distinctly _French_ accent, directly parallel to her and held within the small space between the server towers, glimmering ominously as if there were more than two eyes focused on her.

Yet relief washed over her as Edith recalled her prior experience with the Spy.

"Oh! _Espía!_ " A faint smile began to form across her expression. "I'm so sorry- I really am doing my best, you- you aren't mad are you? I'm trying to learn the ins and outs of this thing," she mumbled, hurriedly explaining her predicament, he only let out a good natured laugh, before revealing himself once more out of thin air, a trick she had slowly become accustomed to- almost, that is. "Still dunno how you..."

Edith trailed off, mouth pressing into a firm line as she assessed what had triggered the abrupt raise of hair on the back of her neck.

Peering at his shoes from her low vantage point, her gaze lifted to the strange suit he wore. Momentarily, it seemed nothing was out of the ordinary, before it clicked.

_The suit was blue._

Snapping into full blown panic mode, Edith made a grab for her crowbar, only for it to be carelessly kicked across the floor, leaving her defenseless. Watching it skid away, the sinking feeling in her chest only worsened. The fact that Spy towered over her in height certainly didn't help her case either, and what little bit of hollowed out space remaining within her was filled with pooling dread. One step back, and she was cornered against the wall, eyes wide in realization of what exactly was going on.

_"You should be. après tout,_ you may remember that we have... _History."_

Flashing a smile, she could only watch as a butterfly knife was swiftly procured from his pocket. Noting that she'd much rather explode up top than be stabbed to death by a man in a suit. Far quicker would that option be in comparison.

And as her gaze crept to his expression, the only thing she could view behind him was an oversized desk, memorabilia and contracts stacked halfhazardly, nudged ever closer to the edge. Deep inhale, exhale.

The tip of a blade pressed firmly against her neck, and yet, despite everything,

She _laughed._

Grip loosening, the two exchanged a bewildered look. _Way to ruin the moment, hey wait is that a good thing?_ , she blinked, then forced a nervous smile, furious at herself that she hadn't taken the temporary moment to escape. "S-sorry, sorry, hah- just- shocked, I guess. C-Caught me by surprise, nerves are on the fritz-"

He raised a brow, idly flipping the butterfly knife between his fingers. The corner of his lips twitched upwards, despite his best attempts to hide it. Her eyes stayed trained on the knife. You're not out of danger yet.

Putting slight breathing space between them, she waited with bated breath, unsure if he would strike whilst conversation continued. 

"Now, what happened to the confidence of Saturday..?" He pondered aloud, eyes traveling over her and boring into her soul. Discomforted, she self-consciously wrapped her arms around herself, not daring to try and run away. _Not yet._

_Just lie_ , her mind urged.

"I uh, killed you on complete accident? I-I was told I turned your gun onyou or something- thing-" She blurted, prompting her inner voice to groan in exasperation. "Your... Your safety was off," Edith mumbled. Biting into her lip even harder, she was convinced it was verging on bleeding.

_There it was again_ , a ghost of a smile, this time paired with the brief, amused rise of his brows. 

Short lived, however, it soon curled into a mocking sneer, eyes narrowing ever so subtly.

"Well, the honesty is much appreciated, _Madame_."

His gloved hand shot forwards with horrifying precision, faster than a viper's strike with his hand held at the ready to backstab the woman. Bracing herself for impending death, thousands of thoughts raced through her mind.

_What would dying feel like?_  
 _How long will I be gone?_  
 _Is this all an elaborate lie?_  
 _What if respawn breaks?_

All of it flickered by in the blink of an eye, giving little room to breathe, let alone process it all.   
  
Yet the end never came. 

Slowly, surely, she came to, having missed the brunt of the action in her state of insecurity. Prying herself away from her vulnerable position, Edith took the very first chance to leap for her crowbar and snatched her device, shoulders falling as she lifted her head to greet her hero.

"Well now, don'tcha worry yourself none, miss Strategist!" She opened her mouth to correct him, before realizing Pyro had joined the party as well, choosing instead to give a muted nod in return to Engineer's statement.

" _Mmhrr!_ " Pyro said, pointing the end of the flamethrower in the direction of Spy's body, head blown to smithereens and legs turned to ash. The sight was grisly, and Edith felt the urge to retch. Yet, to her surprise-- the shock had yet to fade, meaning the sight only left her slightly queasy.

"Thank you..." She whispered, shakily straightening her posture. Adrenaline had left her legs feeling closer to jello than bone, but she refused to fall over again, not in front of the ones who _just_ saved her from certain death.

  
  
Taking the moment to gather her bearings, she eventually sidled up to Engie's side, allowing him to guide the group back to a large room containing a briefcase and...

"Whatisthatwhatisthatwhatisthat?!" She shrieked, hopping backwards, any notion of safety ditched as the living gun beeped back at her, whirring with a red light blinking emotionlessly in her direction. Engineer let out a loud laugh, leaning his elbow on the rattling, bullet-filled machine as if they were close friends, patting the top of it. 

"This here is a sentry gun. Don'tcha worry, long as you ain't wearin' blue, it's your best buddy."

The 'sentry' chirped once more, rotating it's sensor towards the second opening near the front of the room. Entering further, Edith had to set down her equipment in order to scoop her hands over her face, eyes watering from the pungent smell wafting from the separate hallway. The entire way down was painted not only red, but blood red, accented with lost organs scraped along the walls and dripping to the floor.  
  
"Ain't a pretty sight, ah know," Engie said, taking a seat beside her on the lifted step in the floor. "Blu has one of 'em too, ya best hope it ain't pointed at you."

Replying with a muffled whimper, his look of pride soon turned to confusion, then pity. A careful hand patted her back, but it did little to help the backflips her stomach was making at the sight of that hellish hallway. Shock could only do so much to quell the horror upon viewing the site. Appreciative of the gesture, however, she made a point to lean ever so slightly into the touch, despite the internal shiver she felt from doing so with a cold blooded murderer.

"Hey now... Ya did real good stallin' that spy 'till you could get help, y'know that?"

Choosing not to tell him that she didn't actually _mean_ to stall the Spy, Edith chose to shrug instead, glancing back down at the handheld computer map. Anything capable of distracting herself, really. She had a sinking feeling that her absurdly long run-in with the BLU spy had either been a detriment to the team, or had made little to no impact at all.

Commotion erupted from the very same hallway, and scout had begun skidding down the stairs, yelling for the Engineer. Flinching at the static it produced, she leapt to her feet along with her partner, Pyro crouching at the ready with the flamethrower poised just out of view. 

four pings directly behind Scout, no wonder there was panic clearly outlined in his tone of voice. 

"What d'ya see, ma'am?" Hurriedly pointing the sentry towards the hallway and bracing himself, he didn't have to look back at Edith to know she was the only person he could possibly be talking to.

"There's four of them heading down the hallway, right behind scout. I-I can't tell who, but they're getting closer!" She cried, fumbling with the dial. Engineer appeared to freeze halfway through his movement, before hissing a " _dammit, fellas!_ " under his breath, far sharper in tone than expected. Flinching away and towards the windows looking down on the massive room behind the glass, she watched the ruckus enter her own hearing range.

"Guys?! They've got an uber incoming!" Scout yelped, stumbling as a bullet from an identical twin ricocheted off of the concrete and grazed his heel. Immediately, the sentry fired a swathe of rockets, completely obliterating the two closest BLU's. Doing so revealed the source of the problem. A medic's beam was traced directly against the back of a scowling giant, untouchable.

_Uber._ Edith had yet to put the word to physical meaning, but she found that her eyes were practically glued to the human shield, impossible to look away.

Crackling of electricity mixed with the gradually increasing intensity of the odd beam's hum that attached to the man's back, and a shield-like glow erupted across their features, masking their entirety save for glowing eyes and maniacal laughter. Plowing through the sentry's fire like it was nothing, the bullets shredded it to pieces before them, Scout only running faster with spots of blood beginning to soak through his t-shirt.

_Three..._  
 _Two..._  
 _One!_

  
**_WHAM!_ **

  
Just as Scout leapt through the doorway, Edith shut her eyes and prepared for her move to fail, locking the hallway entrance with just enough time for Scout to shudder and fall onto the desk, Intelligence briefcase hanging limp between his fingers.

**Success, we have captured the enemy intelligence. You win.**

Edith sunk to her knees, brought down by the sheer power of relief washing over her in waves, deaf to the cheers of her teammates. Blearily watching Engineer approach, she could only faintly smile at the pat on the back- followed by a hug from pyro before they left. 

"nnnhgh... Ow, ow, that _really_ freakin' hurts..."

Had they just... _Left him there?_

Turning sideways to view Scout, it was clear one could think he was dead and gone already, legs peppered with bullet holes and red shirt stained redder with pooling, sticky blood. 

Ambling over after hauling herself to her feet, Edith grimaced at the mess. Nobody deserved to bleed out this way...

"W-woah, hey- hey lady- nuh uh-" Blinking, Edith drew her hand back after reaching out to pick him up. "I-I'm fine! I canwalk- I don't need your help..!"

She couldn't help but shake her head and grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and allowing him to sluggishly limp alongside her, clearly holding back tears. "Rrhg, fine- fine... I don't wanna hear you say a _word_ to any of da others, y-you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," she whispered, making an attempt to hold back her pity. Dragging him along was hell on her knees, yet it didn't fail to bewilder her that the chatty mercenary had practically gone mute. Imagining what he may be feeling right about now was enough to keep her from pausing her slow strides, moving step by step towards the base.

Ambling along for what felt like hours, she sat the moment she came upon the RED Lockers, resupply having been left empty far prior.  
"Lass, what happened to ye? Yae were missin' fer the whole humiliation round!" Demo cheered. A couple of the showers were filled already, and Edith made a point to avert her eyes. _The what..?_

Before she could question it, Scout had made enough of a ruckus trying to sit down that attention had turned to his trail of blood and wounds.

" _Scheiße!_ Vhat happened?"

Luckily, the Medic had yet to clean himself up, having been focusing on far lower priority wounds with the red beam that had been once trained on Heavy. Racing over to the pair, it only took a couple of moments for Scout to droop forwards onto his knees as he sat, lacking the energy to sit back up. The only thing she could catch was him mumbling a soft "Thanks doc...", before his rage turned towards her.

" _Gott im Himmel!_ You could not have just contacted us?!"

His expression was overflowing with scorn, and Edith shied away, rubbing the back of her neck. "Y-You were out of range," She mumbled, avoiding his gaze, "H-he was left there..."

Though his angered look seemed to soften slightly, it didn't stop him from snatching her arms and neck, roughly moving them without her input to check for wounds, harsh mutterings in German far too close for comfort. The beam washed over wherever she had bruised and cut, and her mouth gaped in awe as they faded away, closing and knitting the skin together as if they had never existed in the first place. 

Unable to query about the magic of this machine thanks to his very brief interaction ending, Edith was left flabbergasted, staring at herself in absolute bewilderment. 

Time ticked by, and Scout had yet to look up from his position on the benches, despite each mercenary finishing their shower and filing out one by one, casting concerned yet doubly uninterested looks in his direction. Soon, the two were left alone, and the silence became stifling.

"Hey... Scout?"

"What."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not mad at you, lady."

Edith nearly recoiled at the statement, eyes widening as her eyebrows practically flew upwards, mouth gaping.

_**"You aren't?!"** _

Scout shrugged, head rolling upwards as he finally sat up, frowning. "Why would I be?"

"I _punched you,_ I thought that- _All this time-_ "

"Well yeah, I held a grudge for a while, but that shouldn't get in the way of our job..." He blinked, rolling his eyes. Edith felt tears welling up behind her eyes, despite there being no particular cause. Maybe it just stung that he had let it go so easily.

"You... You should have a grudge- Scout," She began, reaching a hand forwards. Promptly cut off by his own nudging hers aside.

"Nah, don't start. Like I said I'm not mad. Don't get me wrong, I still hate you, but I don't hate hate you, y'know?"

_I uh, don't,_ "Right..." replied Edith, anxiously placing an arm around her shoulder and hugging it to her chest. "Then... What is it?"

"Don't matter. It's freakin' petty."

"It 'don't matter', that it's petty, Scout!" She frowned, making air quotes with her free hand, "If it's bothering you, then talk about it! It's not cool to keep your emotions bottled up like that..."

"... _Not_ cool?"

"Of course not! If you're like me, you'll end up exploding on someone!"

Scout fell silent, a torn look crossing his face. Chest tightening with pity, Edith held back from moving again, instead observing how he'd reply. Hands fidgeting with the dog tags strung across his neck, it felt like ages before she recieved a response, yet Edith remained patient.

"I've always been told the opposite, y'know I- mmh, I dunno how to freakin'... Make the words- with- my brain- hngh-"

Faintly laughing, she nodded. "It's alright, I understand. It's frustrating, isn't it? When you feel like you've got a problem to work out but it's just... On the tip of your tongue."

"Yeah! It's that! That _exactly!"_ He exclaimed, tossing his arms into the air and leaning back, earnest in the gesture he made. "I mean, what's up wi' dat? 

Edith placed a hand over her mouth, beaming at his words. "Guess that's a mystery!"

The two spent a couple of minutes chatting and motioning while making attempts to locate the mystery words so easily lost from memory. Eventually, a hush fell over the two, and they blinked. Laughter fading, Scout's arms folded over his knees and a sigh escaped his lips. Silence growing in length, Edith waited with bated breath.

"...I think it's cause I've never made a good first impression."

Tempted to reply, Edith forced her mouth shut and allowed Scout to finish, though relief at not being alone allowed for her to relax, even if for a moment.

"Not wit' da team, not wit' Miss Pauling... Not even wit' my newest teammate, y'know?"

Scout's head lifted in surprise the second Edith burst out with, "I feel the exact same way!!"  
"Like, as in you don't think I-"  
"No, _nonono_ , all of my first impressions have been horrid too! I punched you, pissed off sniper, I nearly died in front of Engie, pushed Spy over in the hall while running away from said pissed off sniper-"

Words bubbling over out of her mouth before she could even filter what she was saying, by the time Edith had stopped explaining, Scout had doubled over laughing.

"Ohohoh _man_ , and I thought _I_ was bad--"

  
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I come across as a total asshole-"

  
"Yo me too! I always find stuff I'm into and talk a load about it, then realize nobody's listening and get all upset over it..." 

  
"For realsies?" Edith questioned, frowning in pity, "that's just mean!"

"I mean I get it, we're mercenaries but _c'mon!"_ Scout cried, hands dramatically shooting into the air as he complained, sending them both into another fit of laughter.

  
"Well y'know what? Ever want to talk? I'll listen. Dunno if I'll keep up, but..."

Scout replied with a gentle punch to the shoulder, a grin plastered haphazardly across his face. 

  
"Ay, don't worry about it lady. Effort is what counts, right?"

  
Edith rolled her eyes, returning the gesture and prompting a soft 'oomph', from Scout. 

Angling her head towards the clock pinned to the locker room wall, it took a near full sixty seconds for her to realize the time. Appearing to realize about the same moment, Scout jolted to his feet, yanking Edith to her feet and causing her to stumble into his arms courtesy of his lack of forewarning.

"Yo we can't miss food lady! c'mon!"

Barely allowing her to balance back onto her heels, the two began rocketing down the halls together, laughter echoing throughout as they raced along towards the mess hall. 

* * *

_PART 1/2 END_


	11. Blood Buddies (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phewph, apologies for the wait! We can finally get on to the next chapter, but I needed to separate it just a tad or else it'd drag on forever. Thank you so much for your patience!

"Well now, you two seem to be in a good mood."  
Quirking a brow, Medic glanced up from his meal, clearly having been disturbed from his conversation with Heavy, who sat across from him. Save for the two in the mess hall, it was practically empty of the others, and it was clear most had made quick work of anything decent left around to eat. 

Scout let out a harsh sigh at the sight, but swiveled around to answer the doctor.   
"Geez, can't people get along sometimes?"

Folding his arms behind his head, he rummaged through the near empty fridge, frowning at the meager supply of anything good to eat on it's own. Edith looked on with pity, before proceeding into the kitchen and starting to rifle through the cabinets. There was an old packet of dry pasta, the bottom of a packet of bacon bits, and a nearly empty bottle of oil. Pulling them from the cabinet, she gently nudged Scout out of the way to check in on the fridge.

"Hey lady, what's the big idea-?" He cried, to which she promptly ignored. Of course, no food to be found, but she scrounged a canister of sauce from the back, tossing it onto the counter with the rest.

"Got any pans?"

"Um- I dunno, do we? what're you-"

" _Ja, es ist in der_ drawer to your left."

Barely having caught half of his sentence, she took the word 'left' and 'drawer' and ran with it, checking the rickety old box to her side. Indeed, a pile of rusty old wares were haphazardly stacked upon each other inside. Dragging one onto the stovetop, she began putting together a recipe. 

"What're you doing?"

"Making us food, why?"

"But- that's practically nothing! How're you gonna- oh, wait, okay- think I'm seein' it..."

Edith blinked at the comment, tilting her head slightly. "What? It's just pasta."

"Well- yeah, but..." He tapped his foot against the floor, once again seemingly lost for words. As she worked at the food, Edith couldn't help but cast a glance or two back at him as he watched over her shoulder, at times examining the box of pasta she'd finished off.

"Why'd you just... _make_ , something? Coulda borrowed Sniper's van or somethin', maybe grab somethin' from the market in Teufort..."

"No need, " she chirped, "no need to waste cash when there's things here that may otherwise be wasted!"  
Pacing, Scout let out a sort of humming response, leading to much confusion on her part. After all, it made perfect sense! Part of the money saved on food could go towards...

_Oh, right._

Shaking her head, she shrugged. Plating two dishes of pasta, she made her way over to the table, decidedly taking a spot in front of Scout. With a loud 'thanks!', the two dug in.

Remaining quite aware, Edith felt Medic's gaze even as the two chatted about ever-shifting topics, not once landing on anything concrete, but absorbed in it all the same. Boring into her skull, Edith had to stiffly remain looking forwards, refusing to acknowledge it. _Why?_

Well, maybe it was just pride.  
Having made a friend, Edith _refused_ to let somebody else judge her actions.

The conversation faded off into comfortable silence as the two finished their meals, golden blue light filtered through the window behind Heavy, bathing the room in a blanket of deep orange. By now, it'd likely be a suitable temperature outside... 

Seemingly sharing her idea, Scout followed her to the sink as she washed her plate as if he were a lost puppy, sort of shifting his weight between his toes and heels in a skipping pattern, clearly restless. As soon as she'd finished up both, he practically jogged beside her as she approached the door to the outside. Immediately, he sprinted out past the half-swung doors, and she couldn't help but smile, tilting her head up towards the sky and enjoying the far cooler breeze brushing across her face and threading through her hair, welcoming the respite from the day's heat.  
Pulled from the moment by a whooping "C'mon!" in the distance, her legs began to move on their own, and she let out a soft laugh, feeling the wind pick up as she picked up the pace, caring not for the grainy sand crunching beneath her feet and dirtying her socks, only fixated on the dizzying sensation of running through the desert, following Scout down the path he took, slowing down to meet him by the small asphalt path connecting the two sides of base, exchanging wide smiles.

"Betcha can't keep up, chucklehead!"

  
"You're on, slowpoke!"

The exhilaration that charged between them was electrifying, one could practically feel it in the air, static and crackling intensity as they sped down the road, pushing her legs to the limit as she raced him. Prior, Scout had slowed to a jog with the belief she'd be unable to catch up, but she even found herself shocked by the rate at which she picked up in momentum, eventually forcing Scout to accelerate and truly, _genuinely_ compete. Breathless laughter escaped her lips as she ran, ran, ran, towards the point where asphalt transitioned to loose silt at the end of the road, letting the breeze snap against her heels and into a whirlwind, picking her feet off the ground with every bounding step.

The two sprinted neck and neck, panting with exhilaration before the last few bounds rolled into view. And when Edith felt her legs couldn't move any faster, she found herself hurdling past her partner, leaping forwards and sliding into the sand at the finish line, clouding her view with grit and tossed up dust. Rolling to a stop, she flung her arms over to her sides and hefted herself into a laying position on her back. Taking massive gulps of air as she tried to refill her emptied lungs, Edith felt an aire of vague satisfaction seeing Scout tumble into the dirt beside her, although seemingly exhausted to far less of a degree. _Fair_ , her mind gasped, _That is. Totally fair. Ho goodness._

"Hahah," he laugh-breathed, laying backwards in the dirt, "You're- not s'posed to be- faster than- tha one and only, missy-!"

  
"I don't- I don't-" She took a gasp, "I dunno- h.. how I did that--"

  
"No freakin' kidding!"

Silencing herself for a moment or two to steady her breathing, Edith finally dragged her fingertips through the sand and drew into a cross legged position atop the hill they'd raced upon. Her heart skipped a beat upon viewing the sky, scattered oranges, reds and vibrant purples exploding across the horizon.

" _woah..._ " She whispered, immediately left at a loss for words. The two sat in silence together, left in awe at the sunset displayed above them. Even as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, no words were exchanged.  
Briefly startled by a sharp weight on her shoulder, Edith relaxed upon realization that it was just... Scout.  
Leaning on her, was Scout. It was clear he hardly noticed, and while her mind immediately set off her insecurity at the contact, a fleeting look at his expression dismissed the anxiety that had intitially been alarming. Adjusting her position to account for the new weight, Scout seemed not to see it as romantically intentioned, and therefore neither would she. 

After a minute or two of wordless observance, the sun fully set, bathing the two in darkness as the crickets began to chirp, voices loud and clear in the night.

  
The quiet, save for the noises of the evening, was eventually broken by Scout, who's relaxed murmur could have put anyone to sleep. Anyone except for Edith, who felt pride at the words he said next.

**"Y'know, maybe we're not so different after all."**


End file.
